


Sidney's Sanditon

by hunter_gatherer



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019), Sanditon - Jane Austen
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Pining Idiots, Eventual Smut, F/M, Jane Austen - Freeform, Mutual Pining, Regency Romance, Sidlotte - Freeform, Sidney's POV, back to Enemies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-01-04 01:03:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21188972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunter_gatherer/pseuds/hunter_gatherer
Summary: Sanditon from Sidney Parker's point of view.Sidney returns to his brother's business-venture of a town, Sanditon, only to find something he thought he had lost ten years prior.





	1. Chapter 1

The drive to and from Sanditon had never seemed tedious to Sidney, in fact it was a trek he oft looked forward to, knowing at the end of it he would either be in the presence of family, or friends.

“You cannot be _serious_, Sidney - you know I indulge your ideas, and to be quite honest more often than not they pay off… but _Sandytown_?”

“Sanditon.”

“Sandi-ton.” Lourd Babington corrected himself, “Sanditon - what does it have to recommend itself?”

“The sea. The cliffs. Escape from the theatrics of the _ton_.”

“Would not _that_ be a trick.” Crowe chuckled into his cups.

“I am obligated to be there, would that you both come on my invitation -” Sidney paused as Crowe scoffed, “_and_ on my bill.”

“I vote ‘yes’!” Crowe agreed instantaneously, slapping his hand to the table and making Babington startle and choke.

“Two against one, eh? Cannot fathom how _I _have become on the losing side, usually Parker is the one _we_ are convincing, Matthew.” Crowe elbowed Sidney in camaraderie and Babington called for another bottle. “Alright, to Sanditon we go.”

They had celebrated the decision at a number of parties and a subsequent amount of innumerable glasses of alcohol…

Sidney was of duplicitous mind when it came to Sanditon; he was glad to go back, to see his siblings, his nieces and nephew - wait, no, _nephews_ as he had yet to meet baby James, named after the Parker Patriarch, long since passed.

And yet.

And yet, he knew his older brother would berate him much more harshly about Sidney’s forced investment into this town Tom had been seemingly building from the bricks up.

Somehow, Sanditon was fast becoming much more of an obligation than a place of vacation, relaxation or restoration. He adored his phaeton but wished more than anything else to have a beast between his legs to beat out the trepidation before seeing this town, or his brother again.

Two figures waving in the distance caught his eye - approaching he saw his sister-in-law Mary; gods she looked well, had it really been almost two years since he had seen her?! No less beautiful than she had been on her wedding day… accompanied by a dark beauty he had never seen before.

“Mary, well met!” he hugged his sister and kissed her cheek, she squeezed him hard in return, always so happy to see him. The quiet creature next to Mary merely stood there, awaiting introduction.

“New maid?” he asked, trying hard to keep his gaze from her face; the dark brown eyes threatened to swallow him up as her pink mouth parted in shock - he hadn’t meant to be so uncouth, but his mind was foggy and distracted by lips that were created in his deepest, darkest desires.

“Sidney,” Mary chastised in a voice that held no rebuke before turning to her companion, “This is Miss Charlotte Heywood. Our guest at Trafalgar House”

Turning his eyes to the woman he completely ignored what Mary had said, the hollow between her collarbones dipped as she swallowed, her defined chin dipping at Sidney’s intense scrutiny.

“Miss uh….?” he was embarrassed but knew to hide it behind an air of condescension - as his London mates had exhibited a thousand times over.

“Heywood.” She repeated, staring at him with confusion written on her beautiful brow. Thick, black lashes framed her gaze as it pierced through him, body and soul. Without realizing, he repeated the name aloud, as if he were a parrot - without actually registering the damn thing, once again. Yet, Sidney fought himself to nod vaguely and return his attentions to his sister, while debilitatingly losing focus and returning his gaze, like a moth to the blindingly unsafe flame before him.

“Are you on your way to Trafalgar House? You’ll stay with us of course.”

“Uh no, I’ve taken rooms at the hotel, some friends joining me there.” Why did the girl tilt her head at that, look at him as if he were a puzzle to figure out? “And, tomorrow evening is the famous ball is it not?”

“Tom has been in _such_ a state about it - you will do all you can to help him won’t you?”

Good lord, Mary could not have hit more dead centre in all of Sidney’s insecurities with an air of blind trust. He shifted on his feet in discomfort as Mary’s companion looked him up and down, as if she could see through every thickly laid brick of emotion, every layer of cloth he had on, even beneath his skin to his very soul.

“Tom has nothing to worry about - all is in hand.” Desperate to change the topic of conversation, he looked out off the cliffs and into the sea. “Are you off to Lady D’s?”

“We are.” He could tell Mary was close to inviting him along - that was the last thing he needed, he could not remain in the presence of the beguiling beauty or his sister-in-law for a moment longer.

“Well, I won’t keep you.” He bowed, nodding and muttering what he thought was a semblance of the stranger - the _exquisite_ stranger’s - name - “Until later!” he called as he jumped atop his phaeton.

He tried his damndest not to think what his sister-in-law was now revealing about his sordid past to the gorgeous nymph who had been by her side.

Once he had set his accounts with the hotel and had his horses and bags taken care of, Sidney took the walk to his brother’s estate, taking in the new additions to the infrastructure of the quaint sea-side town. It was easy enough to slip into Trafalgar House, not only was the exterior of the home divided by nooks and crannies to easily conceal oneself in, but the interior was no less deceptive. As Sidney inched his way around a Grecian column, hiding from the ever-watchful butler that passed along the hall, he wondered if Tom built the place with these concealments to his own advantage, or if Sidney’s usage of them were more in line with the children’s interpretation of the home’s aesthetics.

Secreting himself into the study was easier than he had thought - he did not know if many of the staff were out or if his brother’s family were trying to reduce their homes’ number count, but Sidney might have thought to himself it was all too easy, enough-so to be almost suspicious of the feat…

Nonetheless, that did not stop Sidney from helping himself to a brimming glass of the sauternes displayed on the study’s mantle.

His brother entered not soon after, completely unawares of his sibling’s presence as he stomped to his desk and began to anxiously gather parchment from one corner of the desk, only to deposit it in a flurry of indecision on the opposite, similarly filled, corner.

“You seem concerned Tom - anything I can help with?”

A slow smile spread on his face as his brother's recognition and palpable relief washed over him before his sibling embraced him warmly.

Inquiries after the gentlemen Sidney was bringing with him were diverted, he claimed ‘to allow the ball a better air of true socializing’ - to which Tom heartily agreed.

“And what of the most recent additions, brother?” Sidney refilled their crystals and stayed silent, much to Tom’s agitation. “The young heiresses under a Mrs. Griffith’s care?”

“Twins, the Beaufort’s, no mother and the father does not have the income to be able to keep a governess in-house.”

“And?”

“’_And_’ what Tom? Speak plainly.”

“The Antiguan Princess?” Tom wriggled in his seat, delight in the idea he might be getting first-hand gossip to spread about at his ball tonight.

“Miss Lambe is no _princess._” Sidney drained his glass, grimacing as it went down less smooth than the previous had.

“Then _why_ travel all the way to West Indies, at no more than a cryptic letter from Jakob Lambe, and return with this man’s daughter? As a _ward_ and not a _wife_?”

Sidney's withering look cut off that train of thought.

“And where is her father?”

Sidney closed his eyes, chest tightening in tired grief. “Dead… Jakob died before I could reach the island.”

Tom, in a rare moment of empathy, reached over and clasped his brother’s knee, nodding for him to go on.

“He’s asked me to take care of Georgiana until she turns of age. She was treated horribly after he died, by everyone, servants and gentry alike - I shudder to think of what mightve happened had I not arrived.”

“Even by her own race?” Tom was scandalized. Sidney’s jaw worked - unsure how to answer - _were they not all the same race_? Good thing Tom never seemed to need an answer… or even a willing participant, when it came to his conversation. “And the distractions of London were not enough to placate her anticipations?”

“I do not trust to leave her to her own devices in town.” Sidney said distractedly as the side door opened and closed, women’s voices carrying through the home as they passed the study out of view and made their way upstairs together. As he was steadfastly focused over his shoulder, Tom had gotten up and found them another bottle of sherry, returning Sidney’s attention to his brother spilling the liquid across his knuckles in a sloppy pour.

“Who is she?” Sidney asked Tom when they were settled, sipping their respective glasses as they relaxed in front of the unlit fire - the afternoon sun lit the white marble enough that Sidney was squinting as if he were glaring directly into the flames.

“Charlotte?”

Charlotte? Charlotte_. Charlotte…_

“Why, she is the eldest daughter of Mr. Heywood, a gentleman in the town of Willingden. Our carriage hit a ditch and we took quite the spill!”

Sidney shifted in concern, not often a passenger walked away from a four-horse crash.

“Luckily, I shielded Mary from _any_ harm, and one of the gelding’s was extremely agitated - I calmed the beast myself, at the expense of my own foot, the frightened thing nearly cost me all my toes!”

Sidney barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes, Tom never could resist aggrandizement, a sealed-in habit from his youth.

“Lo’ Charlotte was there when we emerged from the wreckage! She dove in and pulled us from the crash - the darling had been out _hunting_ of all things! Can you believe, Sidney?” Indeed, he could not, but Sidney had no time to contemplate as his brother charged on… “We overnight with her family in Willingden and while there were treated with the most hospitable, country kindness.”

“And you felt obliged to repay the hospitality of the Heywood’s by taking their eldest in? What, to marry her off?” Sidney did not know which response he was hoping to hear.

“No, _no_ \- nothing so _traditional_. Times are a-changing brother. No longer do we need to bend to the antiquated rules that constricted industry to this point.”

“Unless Lady Denham is around.” Sidney supplied.

“Cheers to that.” Tom laughed, breaking in his monologue to take a sip from his tumbler.

There was a small measure of quiet at least at that.

* * *

“Settled into the hotel alright Lourd? Matthew?” Sidney asked by way of greeting as his friends entered the hall, both their faces were pinched with judgement as they looked over the soiree. Not until he had pressed large glasses of rum punch into both their hands did they begin to relax and engage in their surroundings, although they held tightly to Sidney’s wings, uncharacteristic of them in a festive setting, usually he felt as if he needed a string tied to his companions wrists in order to keep track of them…

The introduction between his brother and friends was awkward to say the least, Tom fawned over Babington as if courting a suitor and Crowe made no attempt to hide his disdain for the town, and its developer. Sidney was, at least, appreciative of how well his friends treated Mary, courting her twice as well as Tom was courting them.

Finally, the room filled out and there were enough partners to begin the rounds. The frown that had been creasing Lourd’s brow suddenly smoothed, so drastically that Sidney took notice and followed his friend’s gaze. It landed on three women in the corner, he recognized Esther Denham, niece of Lady Denham, along with a girl who had been Lady D’s most recent ‘victim’, a Clarice?

And between them was Charlotte… _Charlotte_.

She was innocence and purity between the others, where Esther radiated disdain, she still had a certain vulnerability about her, Clara made a show of innocence that revealed nothing but contempt and an undeserved air of entitlement about her. Charlotte was all hope and open expectations, wide eyes and easy smiles as she tried to engage with everyone around her.

Sidney was bereft to have disassociated during the conversation and subsequent ‘choosing’, realizing he had been left with only the option of taking Miss Heywood - he would have preferred either of the dullards bracketing her, her wide beseeching eyes were pools in which he would drown in if he looked any longer.

“Your brother will be very pleased with you, Mr. Parker.”

God - he could have borne the closeness of their bodies had she not spoke - but her full-lips parted, and golden honey spilled between them, into the rapidly declining space between their bosom’s. Clearing his throat and looking anywhere into the hall but towards her he composed himself enough to answer.

“Yes, well I do hope so. Babington is a good fellow - but what’s more he is good friends with the Prince Regent… and if he could be convinced to come to Sanditon then -”

“Then the general rejoicing would be unconfined I imagine?”

Sidney smirked, she was quite sharp…

“Yes - and Sanditon’s reputation will be firmly established.”

“And you care about such things?”

“For the sake of my brother I do… yes.” Was she surprised by the idea? He wondered if she had brothers or sisters - if she knew the unconditional love and self-sacrifice and commitment to their dreams that lasted beyond miles, beyond life and death itself. It was inexplicable to someone without siblings.

The announcements ended their dance abruptly and, loathe that he had to let go of Miss Heywood, when Sidney saw his ward enter the ballroom, knew he must abandon her for the sake of his charge.

Miss Lambe’s face betrayed her disdain for the entire affair - openly glaring at the guests that deigned to look upon her for too long, refusing offered dance partners with as much offence as was allowed to her.

Sidney forcefully took Georgiana’s hand and pulled her into the next dance, an invigorating number that did not need partner’s as close as the last - Sidney was grateful of the fact for two reasons;

Firstly, he had known his charge to before ensure needles, pins and other objects used primarily for the female-arts, were hidden within the folds of her skirt, should ever she need to brandish them towards anyone who got too close to her.

The second, after seeing Miss Heywood’s new dancing partner after he had abruptly abandoned her, was none other than the vile Mr. Edward Denham. He and Edward were acquainted well enough, and they Sidney tried to tell himself, even as his ward verbally abused and accused him of the most heinous cruelty, that he had chosen the only available dance to abandon his brother’s charge with someone like Edward, only to have her change partners to the jolly lord of the dock-master, who she spent the majority of the rest of the dance with.

Finally, his brother Arthur came to take Miss Lambe off Sidney’s hands. He trusted his brother to efficiently absorb the young woman’s attention’s enough - even if her attentions were barbed with malice, Arthur would not take a word of it in offence. He retired upstairs, finding a small alcove looking over the ball, as a lively jig began.

“Oh, I beg your pardon.” Sidney was not modest enough to pretend to be surprised then Miss Heywood showed up beside him on the bannister. He had tracked her movements from the moment he had arrived in the eagle’s nest, watching her open countenance absorb all the joviality around her in the same awe and delight he had seen on all four of Tom’s children as he held them as babe’s and watched them grow.

“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Heywood?”

“I was thinking, how very hard it is to make people out.” She laughed awkwardly, and now his focus was entirely on her.

“Anyone in particular provoke that thought?”

“People in general - I like to amuse myself by observing and trying to make conclusions. But in a place like Sanditon, where strangers mingle freely - it’s hard to form a reliable judgement. People can be so difficult to interpret. Don’t you find?”

“And what you have observed about me, in our _small_ acquaintance?” he turned to her fully, delighted to watch her eyes alight with being engaged. Her lips parted in a shy smile, and Sidney wondered, if in which such a small acquaintance with someone, should warrant a kiss in their parting ways.

“I think that you must be the sensible brother of the three.”

That pulled a laugh from him, and when she saw she had guessed right, her own pleasure spilled from her like sunlight spilling through crystal. He could not, even if had he wanted to, stop himself from inquiring further;

“And what makes you say that, Miss Heywood?”

“Well, I may be mistaken…” she leaned in conspiratorially, and Sidney did not deny himself the enjoyment of her closeness; she smelled of cloves and argan oil. “But it seems to me that your younger brother, Arthur, is of a very contrary nature, alternatively over-lethargic and then over-energetic.”

Sidney pursed his lips, it was true Arthur could swing from one end of the spectrum to the other in startling bouts… but did that label him ‘_in_sensible’?

“While your older brother Tom, could be called over enthusiastic - I’m afraid that despite his good nature he neglects his own happiness, and his family’s, in his passionate devotion to Sanditon. Don’t you agree?”

He had expected some quaint story his brother may have told her during her stay in his home, with his _family_, where she was treated with no less care and respect than any of the other Parker’s who slept under its roof. And her attack on Arthur, who could not harm a worm without grieving miserably for an entire mourning period - who was _she_ to speak down on them so? A church-mouse, without prospects or future, speaking on his siblings when they had shown her nothing but kindness. A swell of fury eclipsed all else, and he had to swallow bile from rising in his throat as he fought for a measure of decorum in his reply;

“Upon my word Miss Heywood, you are very free with your opinions.”

She began to stutter out an apology, her doe-eyes going wide in confusion - but Sidney barreled on;

“And upon what experience of the world do you form your judgements? Where have you been? Nowhere. What have you learned? Nothing, it would seem. And yet you take it on yourself to criticize. Let me put it on you Miss Heywood, which is the better way to live - to sit in your father’s house with your _piano_ and _embroidery_, waiting for someone to come and take you off your parent’s hands. _Or_, to expend your energy in trying to make a difference, to leave your mark, to leave the world in a better place than you found it? _That_ is what my brother Tom is trying to do at the expense of a great deal of effort and anxiety and a good cause - for which I do my best to help and support him. And you see fit to criticize him and amuse yourself at his expense.”

“Beg your pardon, I-I’ve offended you.” she exhaled with a quake, her eyelashes catching unshed tears at his sharp rebuke, “P-please forgive me.”

A voice in Sidney’s head urged him to run, run far and away lest she turn her critical gaze upon him and strip him as bare as she had his brothers - there were things he could not have seen about him, could not reveal to a soul in the world. _Run_.

“No. You haven’t offended me, I’m the one at fault, I should not have expected so much from a girl with so little experience and understanding.” Livid he made his way out from the ball, ensuring no one of importance or influence saw him exit the venue.

His disappointment was like vinegar on his tongue, a taste he expectorated into the gravel beneath his feet as he quit from the property, endeavoring to convince himself the walk would calm his affronted pride.

So much for coming back to Sanditon…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who took time to read, kudos and comment on the last chapter!  
It was quite a short one, obviously since Sidney was not in it until halfway - but this longer chapter will hopefully make up for that! 
> 
> Enjoy! Xx

Sidney watched as an ocean nymph walked among mere men; Charlotte’s hair was wet from the ocean, her skirts clinging to her still damp legs. With a sharp bite to the inside of his cheek Sidney turned his eyes away, avoiding her completely as he exited Trafalgar House, knowing if he saw the sea salt on her eyelashes, smelled the sweet oil in her hair, he might be tempted to forgive her impetuous display of ill-manners from the ball. He could not discredit himself so, he was a _Parker_ for Christ sake. The memory of his school-mate’s mantra floated to the forefront of his thoughts as he continued his trek back to the hotel;

_“My good opinion, once lost, is lost forever.” _

Idly he wondered how Darcy and Bingley were getting on, telling himself he must drop them a letter when next he sits at his desk.

He was obliged to entertain Babington and Crowe the next few days, there was a concert that was reasonably diverting, the Gaelic singer from Tom’s ball invited to perform at Lady Athol’s dinner; then a fateful trip to the beach, which ended in some hurt feelings but overall sore sides from laughter. After that there was a poorly attended hunt and a poetry presentation - Miss Heywood had been in attendance, but they had steadfastly avoided one another, Sidney was finally glad of Matthew’s begging off early, and joined him to head to the bar.

Throughout, his party continually bumped into the Denham siblings, and while he knew Edward to be a sop, he had to admit his anecdotes pulled begrudging laughter from Sidney. And Lourd had a curious air about him after every encounter with Esther Denham, one Crowe pitilessly teased the man about.

Later in the week, Sidney deigned to visit his unmarried sibling’s, suffering through Diana’s latest list of ailments before he endured Arthur’s full rendition of the sermon he had pointedly avoided - ending off his story with Miss Heywood’s declaration that she be the toiler while Arthur took place as a lily in the field. It brought a smile to his lips.

When he returned to the bar that held his comrades, they had already been delivered with the message for Lady Denham’s luncheon party for Miss Lambe.

“I’m sorry Parker, but I will go absolutely bunty if I don’t have any real tail to chase around - you know that wild blood in me old boy.” Crowe complained after Babington had read the invitation in full, “Let us return to town, find other pursuits in which to fill our youth.”

“’Youth’?!” Sidney laughed, holding out his cigarette for Matthew to light, “Did you hear that Babs? Old-man Crowe here is thinking he can throw around his age with us now.”

“You mean the same olden Crowe that begged off the last regiment send-off with complaints of a derelict gut, and weren’t seen for a fortnight afterwards?” They hollered and cajoled their friend mercilessly before it was decided they would return to town the next day. Sidney ensured his men followed him into the battle of telling his brother they would be cutting their Sanditon visit short, but Tom quickly extracted him for better odds launching his verbal assault.

“You were to persuade your friends to take houses for the _season_. You know I am relying on your associations with fashionable society - and what of your young ward?”

The manipulations and machinations of his elder brother were growing more pointed by the day. Using his last sworn oath to a dead friend as means to get him to do what Tom wanted.

The truth was Sidney was endeavouring to step out of Georgiana’s war-path, hoping that separation would lessen her ire towards him.

“She will soon settle - I have a _life,_ Tom. Other obligations to see to.”

“At least stay for a couple of days.”

Sidney’s jaw ticked, it would take convincing, and precious favours cashed in that he had worked years to earn. But family was always worth it.

“Very well - I will talk them round.” Without waiting to hear Tom’s platitudes - Sidney knew they held no true emotion behind them - he turned back to see his friends already sauntering back towards the embankment.

Charlotte caught up to him asking for a word, he could not refuse out in public where anyone would see the encounter and censure him.

“Our conversation at the party - I expressed myself badly - I fear you misunderstood me.” Sidney could barely contain the roll of his eyes; she had expressed herself well, eloquent and insightful… _what_ she had said was unfortunate. “I didn’t mean to disparage your brother, or to offend you. Indeed, I have the greatest admiration for what you and he are trying to do here in Sanditon. You were right to rebuke me, and indeed I am sorry. I hope you won’t think too badly of me.”

He was surprised Charlotte had the bravery to apologize. It showed a depth of character he did not think she possessed; but he could not let her see how disappointed Sidney was to find he saw more and more of Miss Heywood’s assessment of his brothers’ countenances and strove to put her off.

“Think too badly of you? I don’t think of you at all Miss Heywood.”

The unfeeling statement hit it’s mark, Charlotte’s eyes fluttered, and jaw dropped, looking as if she were about to take a step back.

“I do not think of your approval or disapproval at all, quite simply I don’t care what you think or how you feel. I’m sorry if that disappoints you, but there it is.”

Charlotte swallowed, tilting her head away as she blinked rapidly. Sidney puffed on his cigarette to stop himself from digging in even more, as Sidney had learned was called in blackjack, _doubling down_, and shattering this girl even further. “Have I made myself clear?”

When she looked back up, Charlotte had clenched her fists and steeled herself, her chin jutting out and chewing on her lips in agitation. Her defiant face was beautiful, and Sidney felt his mouth go dry as she berated him.

“Only if you really don’t care - I wonder that you take the trouble to be quite so offensive and hurtful, good day.”

His pulse was pounding when she stormed off, why was he having this reaction to her? No other woman in his life had held him so accountable, seen through his intentions like they were gossamer. His heart was still pounding when he caught up with his mates.

“No!” Crowe complained, “You cannot be serious, Parker! I have seen all there is of this dreary little place and wish to look upon it no further.”

“I could do with a few more days…” Babington muttered, “Besides, if we leave the day after the luncheon, we have reason to miss mass, but gather at the buffet.” Lourd knew if there was any one or more way to convince Crowe, it was shirking responsibilities and getting drunk at brunch.

“_Fine_, but I reserve the right to complain about it the entire time.”

Sidney thought he may be happy of the prattling, it could distract from his revolving thoughts around the confounding Charlotte Heywood.

* * *

Sidney was rubbing his aching jaw when he entered Mrs. Griffiths’ home, the Brighton Boxer had clipped him just under the chin in a moment of distraction; Crocket had apologized profusely, hands shaking and tears in her eyes until Sidney had taken her shoulders in his hands and endeavoured to convince her that he was alright and unharmed.

He wondered what his brother would say when he saw the blossoming bruise, and Sidney would tell him he received the blow in pursuit of Tom’s Sanditon dream. Something along the lines of;

_‘Pain is a necessary investment for progress…’_

Sidney grimaced at the thought before approaching the locked door the women of the house were all gathered around. Mrs. Griffiths was scoffing at the muffled insults being yelled through the door when Sidney reached over her shoulder and knocked firmly.

“Georgiana, let me in.”

Silence was the only thing that came through the door now. The soft sound of the bolt sliding from its place gave Sidney the permission to turn the knob and enter first, assessing the room for anything untoward before allowing Georgiana’s maids in after him and closing the door on Mrs. Griffiths face.

“What is this about.” His voice brooked no argument or evasion.

“I do not wish to attend the luncheon.” She spoke haughtily, as if he had not just overheard her screaming profanities even _he_ would not use. Her chin was raised, back straight as she wrapped a shawl around herself tightly, like a shield, preparing for a fight.

“And I do not wish to attend _you_ every time you have a tantrum, Georgiana.”

“I am being forced to do things against my _will_, Sidney! That is hardly a ‘tantrum’!”

Sidney rolled his eyes, pulling his watch from his pocket and checking the time, _damn_, it was closer to the luncheon than he thought, he would not have time to freshen up. Turning to one of the servants he requested they send word to the hotel to prepare his and Babington’s phaetons; he did not believe either of his companions would have the presence of mind to do so as they had remained at the underground fighting yard, collecting their winnings from having bet on their friend.

“You are going, and that is the last of it.” He turned to leave but Georgiana stomped like a petulant child and growled;

“I am not your slave!”

It was an old argument, one that had tired itself out in the years they had been forced together, losing its bite and efficacy to make Sidney rise to the fight.

“Nobody said you were, but apparently you have to attend, you are Lady D’s guest of honour.” He said tiredly, sitting down on a chair in the room and pressing his knuckles to his sore cheek again.

“To be gawked at and served up for the general amusement! ‘Here we have the pineapple and here we have the Negress! Here feast your eyes!’”

Sidney pursed his lips, yes, the pineapple was in _poor_ taste, but it was still a gesture he had not expected anyone in this town to extend towards the Antiguan Heiress.

“Georgiana, you know you are worth more than Lady D and all her circle put together.”

“Yes, the heiress from the west indies, rich and black as treacle! Hold her upside-down and shake her, hear the sovereigns’ jingle!”

That was the final straw; “_Stop!_ Stop talking nonsense, this is what your father wanted! For you to take your place in polite society!”

“What about what I want?” she challenged back, their voices raised had startled the servants into statues, afraid movement would redirect either of their ire towards them.

“I’m afraid what you want is neither here nor there.” Sidney deflated.

“You have taken me from the _one_ thing that I love - if you only knew how much I hate this miserable chilly island!”

He sensed the warble in her voice and softened his approach. After ordering the servants to leave, which they gladly and hurriedly complied to, he sat on the edge of Georgiana’s bed, elbows on his knees as he looked at his ward.

“Georgiana, I can do nothing about the climate, but as for the rest…” he sighed, “You will just have to trust me.”

“How? You were a stranger I met when I was an infant, who came and took me from my home, only to bring me across the sea, to governess after governess… I have never seen your home, don’t know a thing about you even.”

It was true, Sidney had small apartments in a fashionable bit of town, but too small to accommodate a ward and accompanying maids. Besides, Georgiana had not completed her education, and a governess on top of everything else was the last thing he needed.

“I loved your father.” Sidney had to clear his throat before continuing, his eyes on his hands as he wrung his cane. “He and I served together. I’ve made the journey to him as many times as he saved my life; I would have travelled to him a thousand times if he had asked.”

“Pray… don’t.”

Sidney looked up at the sharp sound of her chair screeching as Georgiana stood, tightening her shawl around herself and walking into the corner of her room. He could see her reflection in the standing mirror, she was chewing on her thumbnail and her face was twitching as if she were reprimanding herself in her mind.

It was too soon. Sidney understood, he had hardly been able to tell Tom about his friend Jakob, and no matter how close they had been, he hadn’t seen the man in over a decade. Georgiana had watched her father’s decline, suffered alone for months before Sidney had come to her, and even then, he had not been a friendly face, no matter how he had tried.

“I-I’m sorry. I should not have snapped at you.”

“It is hardly the first and will not be the last time.” He had meant it to be a magnanimous statement, but Georgiana’s scowl returned. “Let’s put it behind us. When you want to speak of him, I will be here.”

The girl wiped her face gruffly and turned around.

“I suppose a luncheon won’t be the end of me.”

Sidney smirked, “I will remind you of that when your grievances become insurmountable.” Even Georgiana had a chuckle at that, he took it as a sign and proceeded to opening the apartment door and allowing the servants in again. They proceeded with their trials cautiously, like mice moving around a lazy cat, ears perked for the sudden stop of contented purring.

“Who else was invited to the luncheon?” his ward asked. “I should prepare myself accordingly if I’m to be on display.”

“The _pineapple_ is on display.” Sidney sighed, snapping his watch closed. “My colleagues, and family I believe are the only other parties. It should be an intimate affair. Although I assume Lady Denham will have invited her relations as well.”

Indeed, once Sidney had arrived with Crowe and Babington he greeted Edward and Miss Denham, along with Clara Brereton. Soon after, Tom, Mary, and to Sidney’s dismay, Miss Heywood arrived - he endeavoured not to look at the woman, beautiful in a soft mauve dress that made her skin look like burnished gold - the personification of the goddess _Iustitia,_ silently passing judgement on the room around her.

Once the rest of the party had arrived, they made their way through to the dining room, thematically decorated in the approximation of what Lady Denham assuredly thought the West Indies looked like, even though never having seen it.

Sidney cringed knowing Georgiana was taking great offence to the thematic display. As soon as Lady Denham opened her mouth Sidney knew his ward was bristling for a challenge, and as the two sparred back and forth, Georgiana using her native accent to make the great woman more uncomfortable; Sidney regretted having to step in and chastise his ward in front of the assembled company… effectively obliterating the headway he thought they had made earlier today, if the deadening of Georgiana’s eyes were anything to go by.

The party was seated, Sidney had been so distracted trying to keep his charge in-line, he had not noticed to whom he was alongside at this side of the table. Miss Brereton to his right, with not having been introduced, and only having heard vile things about the woman from the Denham siblings, he was not overly inclined to begin conversation on that front.

Charlotte was to his left, glowing in the afternoon sun and accompanying firelight - there was no way he could resist speaking to her.

“So, Miss Heywood… any observations on the assembled company?” he teased, serving her first from the bowl in front of him before ladling the cold soup, _gazpacho_ in the Spanish style, for himself.

“As you have no interest in my opinions, I shan’t trouble you with it, Mr. Parker.” She sighed, Sidney knew she was trying not to engage with him, but it was too tempting not to continue.

“Oh, I’m sure you have one,” he replaced the utensil in the entrée, realizing in a social faux pas, he had only served Miss Heywood to his left, and ignored Miss Brereton to his right, he leaned forward to hide the illicit fact from Lady Denham and her ward. “Come, share it with me.”

“Not for the world - I’ve endured two tongue-lashings from you, and I won’t court a third.”

“You have not _endured_ the tongue lashing from me that I wish to give you, Miss Heywood. Be glad of that.” He hadn’t meant for the thought to slip from between his teeth, he felt a flush come to his face and he looked down at his plate, unable to make eye contact with the minx out of mortification.

“And if I were not?” she asked quietly.

“Weren’t what?” he was startled back to facing her, not sure he heard her correctly.

“Were not glad I have yet to receive this additional lashing?”

_Yet to receive?_

He was appreciative of his seat and the napkin across his lap. “You sound extremely sure of yourself, Miss Heywood.” Charlotte’s bottom lip caught between her teeth - Sidney wondered if she knew what she was doing to him.

“I believe I deserve to be, _sir_, especially beneath your condescension.” She answered sardonically.

“Were you not beneath me _and_ my tongue! You will find no safe-haven under either.” He snapped at her before looking around to ensure their conversation was still private - no one had chanced upon their whispered tête-à-tête. Charlotte balked at his harsh tone and snapped back just as icily.

“Who ever said I was looking for a haven, Mr. Parker? Save your unpleasantness for someone else, or better still, why not try to be civil?”

“Well said.” He tried not to think of the tongue-lashing he wish he were giving the prude little thing, beneath the table, “Perhaps I may…”

“But not with me, _pray_.”

He could not hide the satisfied smirk she pulled out of him - what an absolute whip of a woman.

Charlotte turned to Matthew as Lady Denham locked Sidney’s ward in her crosshairs, his pull and parry with Miss Heywood would have to wait as he tried to arbiter between the two giantess personalities.

“Miss Lambe, what are your views on matrimony? An heiress with a hundred-thousand must be in want of a husband, one must think?”

“I don’t care to be any man’s property, Lady Denham.” Georgiana answered coolly, trying not to get drawn into another argument.

“Oh, hoity toity! I should have thought someone like you must be quite used to _‘being a man’s property’ _\- was not your mother a slave?” Lady D laughed.

The party instantaneously went quiet, Sidney dropped his utensil to get Georgiana’s attention and minutely shook his head as he tried to convey the message to _be civil_ with just his eyes. Georgiana caught the look and folded her hands demurely into her lap.

“She was. But being used to a thing and liking it are not the same, my Lady.”

“Hmm - I’m beginning to think you are a very opinionated young lady, Miss Lambe.” Sidney hoped the topic dropped and reached for his wine, taking a sip and nearly choking on it when Lady D continued with; “What do you think Miss Heywood?”

Charlotte looked at Sidney, he could not discern the look in her eyes, was it fear? Of the grand Lady Denham asking for her opinion? Surely she was not afraid to tell the truth, she had not been with him by any standard. Glancing down the rest of the table, Mary nodded at her in encouragement before Charlotte turned back and spoke.

“I know young ladies are not expected to have opinions, Lady Denham.” Was that her skirt brushing against his knee? An acknowledgement of their previous conversation? Sidney felt himself slouch slightly in his seat, whether to increase contact with her, or minimize himself between what he now understood to be three massive contenders of the female persuasion on the field where he was more and more beginning to feel like the ball…

“But I think Miss Lambe is quite right to value her independence - just as you do yours. Don’t you agree Mr. Parker?”

She dragged him back into the conversation, her gloved hand reaching out under the table, as if she were going to grip his forearm, before pulling back and giving him a pointed look - he realized he had not answered her question yet.

“Miss Lambe is aware of my position on the matter.”

He regretted his words as Charlotte’s head whipped towards Miss Lambe, whether misunderstanding _for_, or in solidarity _with_, the young woman who was his ward - his ward and nothing else - he did not know.

“Hmm - no answer from Mr. Sidney.” Lady Denham chortled to herself before fixing Miss Heywood in her path of destruction; “And you Miss - are you still keeping up on the pretense that you are not in Sanditon in search of a wealthy man to marry well and keep you?”

Sidney knew it was not Miss Heywood’s reaction the crafty Lady D was looking for with such a pointed question. Indeed the woman almost missed Charlotte’s answer for how fixedly she were watching his and Crowe’s reactions.

“Indeed I am not ma’am!” Charlotte chuckled awkwardly, looking around for support. Sidney could not help but turn to look at her as she continued, “I have no thoughts of marriage at all,” he felt his jaw tick and ground his teeth to stop the reaction entirely, “And if I were to choose a husband, wealth should not come in to it!”

Sidney blinked in disbelief. For someone of her status, no family name of import or apparent investment in industry; wealth should be the _only_ thing on her mind. Her skirts once again brushed his knee, and Sidney reached his hand down, skimming atop his thigh until he felt the trespassing muslin, rucked as it were to the side of his knee - he allowed himself the briefest of grazes under the pretense of adjusting his seat, before his ears caught up with the table conversation.

“Oh poppycock.” Lady Denham had heard enough, but Miss Heywood did not know to stop after the race had already been lost.

“Should not a good marriage be based on mutual love and affection? Without equality of affection, marriage can become a kind of slavery.” The skirts pulled away and Sidney’s fingers were bereft of the soft material, but he did not miss Georgiana’s eyes flare with interest at Charlotte’s statement.

“Or an escape from it! Miss Lambe’s mother would be a case in point. A pretty young negress catches the master’s eye - casts her spell on him - that’s the way the world works, ‘aint it’ Miss Lambe? And now here you are with you’re a hundred thousand! A rich prize for any young fellow with a title and a leaky roof. So, what do you say to Sir Edward - would not you and he make a pretty match?”

“We aint suited Lady Denham.”

“Good for you, Miss Lambe. Well said! ‘_We aint suited_’.” He laughed. “May I cut you a slice of pineapple?”

Affable Arthur to the rescue. Affable, and egregiously charming to the point of stealing the pièce de résistance and hacking into it.

The luncheon was decidedly over.

* * *

“How is your pursuit of Miss Denham going, Babington?” Crowe asked once they had reached the bar again.

“Very well,” Lourd smiled, “Esther Denham professes she wants nothing to do with me. She’s deliciously disdainful.” He snuffed out his cig and dealt a new hand, “I called upon her, before the luncheon. It was short, she professed she could not stand the sight of me after learning my Christian name and laughing herself sick.”

“Saucy bitch, and you, a peer of the realm.” Matthew scoffed as Sidney chuckled at the moony smile on Bab’s face.

“I must admit, I categorically adore it.”

“So? How long until you bring her to heel?”

“’Bring her to heel’? She’s not a dog, Crowe, she’s a young lady.”

Distasteful as always. Matthew had the singular ability to turn any conversation into something repugnant.

“She needs to be mastered. You have to like a spirited girl, much like Miss Heywood, eh? She’s got a bit of a spunk about her. Or Miss Lambe then? The way she stood up to that old witch yesterday? You can tell _she_ would be a lively handful in bed -”

“Don’t even _think_ about it, Crowe!” Sidney had not realized the violence of his actions and saw Matthew’s eyes widen in shock.

“No need to take that tone - I was just saying…”

“_I mean it_.”

“Alright man, understood.” Matthew shuffled the cards in his hands, awkward for a moment. “But if a fellow might ask - _without_ having his head bit off… what’s your history with her?”

Sidney sighed. “I am simply her guardian until she comes of age. Not a job I wanted, and I am finding it damned irksome. The girl misses her homeland, _hates_ the climate here -”

“And she doesn’t care for you…?” Babington laughed.

“Mmhmm - pretty much takes exception to everything I say or do. But still, she is safer here than London… anything can happen there.”

“Anything can happen anywhere,” Matthew said after a while.

“True.” Sidney agreed, he could see he and Crowe had buried their little spat, so threw in his hand and let the man win, as recompense, before ordering another bottle for the table.

A short while later, after the cards eliciting a none-too small exchanging of wealth between the three friends, Tom Parker made his way into the bar - Sidney wondered if the man had been in the establishment since he had seen it built and supposed not, Tom had other vices.

“I was hoping to speak to my brother gentlemen, in private” Tom said by way of getting Sidney alone. Once he had, he wasted no time;

“I am anxious to know what progress you’ve made.”

“In what direction?” Sidney asked, knowing full well what his brother insinuated.

“Why, securing tenants for our enterprise of course.” He said it sarcastically, twisting the knife like Sidney had never known him to do before.

“_Your_ enterprise Tom.”

“From which you stand to profit, richly.” He countered snidely.

“_If_ it succeeds.”

“You know I depend upon your _connections_.” Tom made it all too clear what he thought of these ‘connections’ outside of their profitability. “When I see you do nothing but _carouse_ -”

“_Easy_ brother, easy. Men like Babington and Crowe cannot be bullied into staying, they need to be… jollied into it.”

Ignoring Sidney, Tom pressed on; “I am beset with worries. The workmen need to be paid, Lady Denham is threatening to withdraw her investment… I am at my wits end. She has it in her power to ruin me. _While you -_”

Sidney cut his brother off from another depreciating lecture about his method of work. “_Alright_, alright - _enough_. The promotion of Sanditon is a very delicate business, which do you not truly understand - but I am _trying_ my _best_ for you, truly.”

He strove to impress upon Tom how he intently was giving Sanditon his undivided efforts, but his brother merely finished his drink and stood to leave, patting Sidney on the shoulder derisively.

“That is all I ask brother. I am sorry to have interrupted your pleasure.”

“Work man, this is how I work.”

“If you say so.” Tom left, making Sidney’s blood boil.

Immediately after that ‘family visit’, Sidney escaped the stuffy bar, fed up with the attitude his brother had put him into. He told his companions he had drank too much and was ready to throw himself to the sea, not only to exercise, but expel the demons he had swallowed.

The chill of the seawater did him well, sobering him immediately and making his skin feel tight and comfortable once more. Surprisingly, Sidney realized he preferred these waters to the warm blue oceans around Antigua; indeed the sharp rocks and inability to see where one was stepping was not ideal, but the salt tasted different, the water moved differently, all of it endeared Sidney to it, irreparably.

Sufficiently exercised and negative spirits banished, Sidney returned along the coastline to where he had left his belongings. One last scrub and rinse of his hair before standing up… he saw a figure he hadn’t thought to look for. Was she in his mind’s eye? Only one way to find out;

“Miss Heywood - am I never to get away from you?”

“Mr. Parker, I assure you, you are the last person I wish to see.”

He laughed, looking down at himself, already his body reacted to her voice, the condescension in her tone, the vain attempt to speak towards him, as was proper in modern society, while not encroach upon his modesty… not that he thought he had a shred of such left.

“Yes, you are right, I spoke out of turn. Forgive me?”

“Of course. Excuse me…” she turned to run off.

“Wait, Miss Heywood!”

Sidney did not realize he had spoken until he watched her freeze in place, and now, he was not five paces away from her, and had no intention of stopping.

“M-Mr. Parker…” she stuttered, her eyes were closed as she turned towards him, hands out in caution of her own balance on the precipice of wet stone and sliding rock.

“Sidney, please.” He murmured upon reflex. He was close enough now to grasp her elbow, steadying her.

“Charlotte.” She whispered in return - her warm breath played against the sea water still on his chest as her warm hand slid against the soaked skin of his forearm.

“Why are you here?”

“Shells.”

“Before the shells?”

She tilted her face heavenward, opening her eyes and only tilting the minimalist amount to be able to meet his gaze.

“Miss Lambe, we met among the cliffs.”

Sidney could not bring himself to ask why Georgiana was at the cliffs - Charlotte’s eyes upon his face were entrapping.

“She - she was deeply afflicted…” her hands squeezed his biceps as the pebbles shifted beneath her shoes - the drift of her skirt across his cock and thighs was bracing, if she moved forward any further they would be in full embrace, and he would be unable to stop his body from reacting. “I thought she intended to throw herself from them - but Mrs. Griffiths found us when she had much calmed down. I believe she is safe now.”

“Charlotte…” the sighed intimacy of her name made her inhalation sharp, eyes closed as she bent her head forward. Sidney did not deny himself the soft press of her body against his as her hands travelled up his arms to his shoulders, she allowed her eyeline to drift from his face down to where her hands rested, bracketing his collarbones - her thumbs drifted absently across the lines of him and he imagined she was too distracted to notice his own hands leave her sleeves to clasp around her ribs, the stays of her bodice flimsy beneath his gripping hold.

“I-I must go…” she abruptly pulled away from him, curtsying as propriety demanded, and making direct eyeline with the basest part of him she had wished to avoid. With a gasp Charlotte tried to stammer an apology and made as hasty of an exit as she could.

Sidney tried to swallow the embarrassment, but heavy palm landed over his aching flesh and with a firm squeeze he reprimanded himself; _be good_ he thought inwardly - the cool eastward wind wrapped around his damp skin like a sickly robe, pebbling his skin and reminding him he was still fully nude in the open, subject to anyone’s gaze.

All Sidney could do was return to his clothes, trying to sort out the perplexing mix of excitement and shame flowing through him.

* * *

Joining his friends again, he saw they had been imbibing the entire time Sidney had been gone – and endeavoured to catch up, ruining the entire exercise he had gone through to sober up in the first place. Matthew tried to convince Sidney of the much more efficient means of expelling alcohol, while Lourd extolled about the virtues of Miss Esther Denham.

“I have never met a more bewitching creature.”

“So what you do, is reach all the way to the back –”

“_Stop Crowe_.” Sidney held up a hand to save his ears from any more of the revolting venom his drunk friend was trying to pour there.

“Have you ever felt that drop? As if your ribs opened up and everything fell out in front of you?” Babington was continuing when Sidney turned towards him.

“What?”

“That _swoop_ of feeling – like the first time your horse makes a jump.”

“I think I’m feeling that now…” Crowe muttered, laying his head down on the table.

Sidney tried to think back – did Eliza ever inspire that feeling? He had been young to be sure, so every illicit kiss and heated look had caused his body to react in a multitude of strange, new ways when he was with her.

More recently though, Sidney avoided emotional reactions, trying to approach all thinks with apathy. But the way Babington described ‘the drop’ made Sidney flush in discomfiture as he realized the last time he felt that way.

“What is it Sid? Are you taking Crowe’s advice suddenly?” Babs asked jokingly, Matthew looked up at his name and fixed hazy eyes on his friends.

“No – I was just, remembering an unfortunate incident today.” He turned in his chair and raised his arm for another bottle, the maid nodding when she saw him.

“Oh?”

“That swim I went for – well I was happened upon by a lady. And not to put a too fine point on it – everything did _drop_ and fell out before her…” he made a gesture over the front of his body that was interrupted by his rum appearing on the table beside him.

“She happened upon you in the water?”

“She was on the beach when I exited the water.”

“Waiting for you?” Babs held his cup out for Sid to fill it, which he did before raising his arm and tilting the bottle straight to his lips, swallowing once, twice, three times.

“No,” he gasped, letting the beverage burn straight down to his gut, he hoped it would help burn the shame of the encounter away, “Apparently she was as surprised as I was. She was looking for _shells_.”

“_She sells seashells by the seashore_…” Crowe began humming to himself.

“Poor thing probably thought yours had a tiny little snail still living inside!” Lourd laughed, having written off swimming, stating the season for it had passed and the cold waters would not do a fig for him, but they all knew he was merely hoping to save himself from the teasing they had lashed upon him.

“There’s more…” Sidney sighed, these two ingrates were his friends, and the only confidants who did not know the victim well enough to demand Sidney marry her for exposing himself and tainting her virtue.

“It was Miss Heywood.” He revealed the identity of the offended. Babington choked and began coughing on inhaled drink before he and Sidney had to provide _several_ explanations of who it was to Crowe. The man, for some damned reason, would well remember this story in the morning, but somehow could not remember a woman he had spoken to on multiple occasions.

“Well why did you not just stay in the water, man?!” Matthew asked indignantly, put off that his friends were talking to him like a two-year-old for not remembering the woman, whom he had to admit, once he remembered her, he thought was quite the bland sort of thing in beauty and conversation.

“Who knows how long she would have been there?” Sidney asked, knowing full well it was a flimsy excuse.

“Maybe you wanted her to see?” Babington asked slyly, waiving his hand for another bottle. When he looked back at Sidney’s unamused, and frankly shocked face, Babs laughed heartily.

Crowe interrupted with only minimal hiccupping;

“Lourd! That’s disgraceful… isn’t she Sid’s niece?!”

“NO!” both men yelled at the drunkard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you thought :) 
> 
> Come find me on tumblr; hunter-gatherer-stuff  
Xx


	3. Chapter 3 - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long between posting. I've had a tumultuous couple of months - and it's looking as if I will have an insane few more!   
I was looking for a new job between Ch2 and now - and one found me? From over 2120km (aka 1317 miles) away!!! So, in the next 6-8 weeks I'll be moving my entire life across a country.   
Life is crazy y'all.   
Love you all for sticking with me, I promise to finish this series - eventually!

The clanging and masonry work taking place outside woke him cruelly - though, not as cruelly as his comrades had, biting at his heels until he completed their bidding, dressing and forcing down a light breakfast - aided with a healthy glass of ale; which Crowe swore was the best cure-all _he_ had ever come across, Sidney was not so sure.

With a pounding head and shaking hands he entered his brother’s home, preparing to share the news of his party’s imminent departure.

“Tom, I will be back within a fortnight, with fresh prospects for you to woo into investing, but for now I must leave.”

“_Brother_.” Tom had scoffed, his disappointed visage putting a sour taste under Sidney’s tongue, “You _cannot_ be serious.”

He sighed followed the direction his brother had stormed off in, “I told you _explicitly_ we had to return to London –”

“Dammit Sidney! Did my words mean nothing to you?” Already he knew Tom could smell his last night’s shame upon him – judging his younger brother _guilty_ before the man even opened his mouth. They entered the study and Sidney squinted against the morning light reflecting from the model-replica Sanditon like a blaze to his sensitive eyes.

“I cannot _force_ them to stay, Tom.”

“How am I to fill these empty houses, Sidney?” his brother pointed his fingers to a row of townhouses, his own hand shaking almost as badly as Sidney’s. His voice was broken when he continued; “I confess I am relying…”

Tom’s rant aborted early and when Sidney followed his brother’s line of sight he understood why - Miss Heywood scrambled out from beneath the desk at the back of the study, having been caught out, apparently under the pretext of finding a previously-‘lost’ parchment.

Sidney felt his heartrate increase as she appraised his body from head to toe - he wondered if she were revisioning what she had seen yesterday… carefully he folded his hands in front of himself to avoid any further embarrassment as he leaned on his cane, urging the pressure from the pommel to sharpen his mind, provide him something cutting to say, something that would make her look away from where his rapidly increasing ardor was straining to make itself known.

“Miss Heywood… always popping up when least expected.”

The cold look on her face was exactly what he needed to douse his impure thoughts. “I’ll leave you to it gentlemen.” she quipped, obviously wondering if the term ‘gentleman’ applied to Sidney any longer. Turning to leave, she tossed lush hair over her shoulder, Sidney wondered if the sea-salt was curling the tips tighter to her scalp, or if it were merely her mane’s natural expression.

He was losing time, with the interruption of Charlotte’s exit, Sidney could finally get a word in edge-wise;

“Look, the fact of the matter is, there is simply not enough to tempt them here. They need more…” he sighed, knowing the answer was paltry, but having no other suggestion for his brother. “They need more entertainment.”

“_Sidney-”_

“I’m sorry, Tom. I’m sorry - but we leave this morning.” And with a stern look at his older sibling, he departed from Trafalgar House, passing by Charlotte in the solaria gathering what looked like blooms of snowflakes; the sun warmed her locks to an auburn shine, and when she turned to look at him, the blush on her cheeks matched the tint of her lips, which looked well-bitten. Tearing his eyes from her mouth he gave her a short nod - ready to quit this windy town and never look upon her again.

* * *

As he herded his friends to the hotel, where their packed bags and phaetons would be waiting, a servant called out to Sidney, saying she had just delivered a letter for him to the post house. Crowe was astonished to learn that some things, in a small town like Sanditon, actually do stay private, when the servant was questioned as to the contents of the letter, and did not know, stating she had been given the parcel to deliver, already sealed.

Sidney led the detour to the post office and picked up his note, finding, with no small amount of exasperation, that Miss Lambe had once again made a spectacle that he was required to clean up. After assuring his party they could safely be off to London without him, Sidney made his way to the Governess Griffith’s home - _good god,_ would this headache ever leave him?

He deliberated on route; was he speaking of the hangover, or of his ward?

“’Willful, rude and _obstreperous_.’” He read from Mrs. Griffiths note. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he challenged the obstinate youth - wondering when he had come to recognize his father’s voice coming from his chest.

“Just that this place is driving me to distraction. It’s like a _prison_!” she threw her arms out, gesturing about the room petulantly.

“You were on the bluffs just yesterday!” Sidney countered, when Georgiana’s face paled and she looked at him in surprise he continued; “Oh yes, _that_ particular adventure. Do not operate under the false assumption that nothing in this town happens that I do not hear about.”

“I was only going for a walk, nothing untoward, Sidney…” Georgiana shifted uncomfortably under Sidney’s gaze. “Besides, I was joined by Charlotte - it was all completely proper.”

He scoffed, “_Miss Heywood._ If she were a man, I would not hesitate to call her a rogue and a scoundrel. As she is not, I desire you keep your distance, that woman is a bad influence on you, Georgiana.”

“You would know _all about that._” His ward muttered under her breath as she plucked at the sewing project in her lap.

“Do you really think I enjoy this Georgiana? I have many demands on my time and I would rather be free of this one, but like it or not, I am your guardian until you turn 21, and seeing as that is still two years away -” His gut lurched loudly and Sidney took a quick glance around the room to find something suitable he could empty the contents of his stomach into if need be. _Damn those deviled kidneys!_

“Is something ailing you?” she asked with false concern, riling Sidney up and blessedly distracting him from his roiling stomach.

“Yes, something is ailing me. _You are_.”

“Georgiana -” Mrs. Griffiths interrupted opening the door, “A visitor. Another one.” She stated before walking down the hall.

With a parting glare at his young ward, one she vehemently returned, he stood to follow the governess, intending to apologize and try to smooth over the ‘snake-and-apple’ painting with her…

The soft smell of argan oil reaches him before the physical impact of one Charlotte Heywood; but what an impact she makes, small hands bump against his chest before her body follows, narrowly turning her head to avoid a collision with his chin. She reels back from the run-in, frowning at the slightly crushed flowers in her hand as Sidney’s realized he has gripped her waist. His fingers betray his intentions swiftly, squeezing the soft swell of her hips, causing her eyes flew back up to his, lips parted as a shuddering gasp fell haltingly from her mouth.

“Miss Heywood,” he could not focus on the way her caramel eyes dilated when he spoke her name… “It seems I cannot escape you. I was just leaving.”

And leave her he did… once he peeled each finger agonizingly from her form, endeavouring not to think of the way Charlotte’s hand had pressed over where her breath had warmed his chest the day before.

“Mrs. Griffiths,” he began as the governess waited by the front door, holding Sidney’s hat and gloves with a pinched look upon her face. “Please allow me to apologize for Georgiana’s behaviour; she is extremely partial to shock-value and loves to play these tricks to incite a reaction. I beg of you to withstand her childish impulses, and equally dismiss them as such.”

“I would Mr. Parker – but this was, well, downright blasphemous! Even poor Reverend Hankins was shocked silent by the images rendered from her _imagination_.”

Sidney ducked his head, he was all together sure the Reverend was struck silent for another reason, particularly.

“Mrs. Griffiths, I openly admit you are not the first governess Georgiana has aggrieved and abandoned – but I have the utmost confidence that you will be the last – I have faith in you. And from this incident I trust she will have learned her lesson.”

“Thank you, Mr. Parker.” The governess opened and closed the door behind him as Sidney stepped out into the harsh light of the high-noon sun.

Returning to the hotel he saw his friends had departed - meeting the owner he asked to extend his occupation of his room for another night, only to have found it rented, his belongings packed, and the rest of the hotel filled to capacity. Some doctor and his entourage come to town? Sidney cursed his luck before turning to Trafalgar House, much like a whipped dog with its tail between its legs. Thankfully he came upon his brother’s wife, Mary, who was more than delighted to set him up in the secondary guest bedroom.

“I’m sorry, the room has not been renovated recently. We gave the better of the two to Charlotte when she arrived.”

When _wouldn’t_ Miss Heywood inconvenience him in some way?

“As long as it has a bed not made of stone, I will be fine Mary.”

“I should hope so, both mattresses are double-layered… although Charlotte was complaining she did not sleep well last night.”

Sidney’s head tilted to the side, accepting the tea Mary had poured for him and nodded for her to go on.

“Poor thing was jumpy as a scared cat this morning, completely out of sorts; mishearing questions or completely ignoring us with this dazed look on her face. And _oh_, the reaction I received when I asked her about the _beach_!”

Sidney’s teacup clattered precariously only saucer as he startled at the mention of the cove - Mary was speaking with no fury or astonishment towards him, so surely she had not been told…

“She looked as if she had seen a ghost in the front room, pale as could be! But when I asked about the beach she turned as pink as a pomegranate!”

Sidney knew the look, his own face heated thinking about it; begging off he retired early, intent upon getting in a few much-needed hours of rest.

As soon as he relaxed though, his mind raced. Charlotte had apparent opportunity to tell his family, _her protectors_, about their encounter - but instead had kept it to herself… for what reason? He wondered.

His stomach had come to balance, but as Sidney shifted to make himself more comfortable beneath the sheets, the rest of his body would not settle; much like Mary had described Charlotte’s own activities under the cover of darkness.

The twin of the mattress he laid upon had supported her body for weeks, cradling her in its soft embrace and swallowing her nocturnal sighs and dreams. As he arched his back, he wondered what movements she made beneath the sheets; his thighs flexed, and he pondered if hers had spread as she tossed and turned, reliving their fateful encounter.

Sidney’s need throbbed between his legs, the bedding concealing his slow movements as he reached towards his groin, hoping to redirect the distraction he felt into something _physical_, something with a straightforward definition and easily explained away.

His completion was reached after a tumultuous battle between brain and body, one which only wished to achieve climax and relax, while the other ostentatiously begged for imaginings of the utmost unbelievable… the warring parties settled on the parting of a certain woman’s lips, and her soft inhalation of surprise, supplanted with the shape they made upon the shaky whisper of his christian name…

Sidney fell into a deep sleep after his ungentlemanly actions, and subsequently he missed dinner. When he did wake, somewhat corrected of the rest of his hangover (whether physiologically, emotionally or reputation-wise had yet to be seen), the ravenous demands of his stomach sent him down into the kitchens.

The downstairs was bereft of servants, only the cats and watchdog were alert enough to attend him as he went about in search of the easiest meal he could make himself. Dry cheese, seeded bread and salted pork created enough of a supper to belay the pangs of his digestive system until the next meal.

He was chuckling as a small cat licked his fingers clean, her purrs turning into plaintive growls as one digit reached its limit of flavour and she moved on to the next, endearingly directing Sidney’s hand with a soft paw of her own.

“Thank you for not using your claws, Little One.” He murmured before the lithe creature startled away at a noise by the kitchen door. Charlotte stood there, dishevelled and barefoot as the heel of her hand scrubbed at her eye - a monstrous yawn took her.

Sidney stood completely still as Charlotte opened the woodstove and stoked the embers before putting a few logs in, briefly warming her hands against the flame. He admired her form, the warm orange light of the fire setting her hair into bright auburn and her body silhouetted from the thin shift she wore, as she stood, the curve of her hips came into shadow and Sidney’s mouth dried as he tried to regain his sudden unstable balance.

She turned, and upon seeing him watching her, Charlotte’s hand flew up to her mouth to quench a startled scream, the apathetic watchdog merely huffing and turning on its side before returning to its slumber.

“Sidney! What are you -” her eyes widened as she realized to whom she was speaking, and her throat bobbed in a dramatic swallow of the rest of that sentence.

“I could ask the same of you, Miss Heywood.” He crossed his arms over his chest and propped his hip against the sideboard, struggling to keep his gaze from straying.

“I-I cannot sleep in, I wake before the servants, every day.” She fidgeted with the shift over her shoulders, “A farmers-daughter’s trait, perhaps…” she trailed off, shy and embarrassed.

“Is it morning then?” he asked, jokingly. Charlotte’s shocked expression only cracked when the moggie Sidney had been indulging leapt back up onto the countertop and demanded both their attention in feeding it.

“Tis, Mr. Parker.” She smiled and turned into the scullery as more cats began to appear, apparently gathering to participate in a daily ritual Sidney was here only to bear witness to. Charlotte allowed the cats to surround and paw at her as she broke half a dozen eggs into several small dishes, the resulting overjoyed purrs seemed to echo throughout the kitchen.

“Not to worry, Mr. Parker,” Charlotte mistook his stare for one of condensation, “I will repay the egg-debt. Miss Lang from past the church yard gives them freely when I deliver her mail.”

“I did not see you as an egg-thief, Miss Heywood.” He mused, her sharp look at him over her shoulder as she picked up a limping kitten, before placing it down closer to the meal, ensuring it got a fair share of the spoils. “Nor an early riser.”

This time he smiled when Charlotte looked his way, and she returned it with a roll of her eyes.

“Nor you Mr. Parker… although I believe _my_ assumption is the correct one out of the two. Or three?”

Sidney laughed and the sly smile on Charlotte’s lips made his stomach clench.

* * *

The morning opened slowly after their encounter in the kitchen. He had intended to go for another swim, but when he saw Charlotte sneaking from her room, a large towel tucked under her arm and fresh clothes tucked into an overstuffed bag, he made the concession that she could have the sea for the day.

Instead he found a servant to fetch his post from the hotel and set to outlining the next high-society individuals he would be targeting for the sake of his brother’s endeavour.

Sidney could not stand the _ton_ \- he had not been bred for such things as his wild attitude and uncontrollable ambitions could attest. He felt stymied in this role; begging for scraps for a cause he had no emotional stake in. Usually, when a lord saw Sidney approach, they knew it was because he had struck gold across the ocean, found investments of untold riches in the mountains to the south, entreated princes and princesses from the east to leave their exotic lands in return for England’s charms.

Letting a handful of apartments in a shoreline town, with no repute or distinguishable name from the other ‘seaside resorts’ popping up like the pox… Sidney felt as if it were beneath him.

And yet…

The struggle was beginning to entice his inner conqueror. _What_ could he say to capture society’s interest? _How_ could he sell the charms of this place to people who had all they desired at their fingertips? The challenge enough was endearing to Sidney’s desirous nature; what a feat to have under his belt, for future endeavours, for future men like him to look up and aspire to…

Breakfast came and went without him - too busy at his brother’s desk, scribbling away at his final note before allowing himself the indulgence of smoke and a peek at the society pages, in case overnight a new heiress had popped up, one that he could reasonably invite to invest in a brand new costal venture…

“Mr. Parker,” she stopped short when he dropped the paper and revealed it was him. He tried to make his eye-roll less disdainful - knowing Charlotte would not understand his rude expression was not aimed at her, but towards himself for being fool enough to set himself up in the study with a newspaper and a cigarette - he foolishly doubted himself for a moment, wondering if he had subconsciously hoped Charlotte would come to seek out his brother, only to find him there instead.

“The ubiquitous Miss Heywood. Can’t I even read the news in peace?”

“If you don’t wish to be disturbed, you might choose somewhere more secluded.”

“Yes, well I tried that. It wasn’t _entirely_ successful.” He could see Charlotte was remembering the beach – his own blood pulsed at the thought, he could feel a light flush come across his cheeks as she bit her lip and fidgeted. Sidney did not know, and would never find out where that conversation would have led when Tom entered the room;

“Ah, Charlotte, Sidney, come it’s time to leave. You don’t want to miss Dr. Fuchs demonstration.”

Doctor Fuchs… the one who had stolen his room and forced him into the proximity of family and… well Sidney did not know _what_ \- but his mind supplied ‘danger’.

“Actually, I’m _pretty_ _sure_ I can do without that. I’ll er… I’ll stay here and catch up on some paperwork.” Sidney lied, singularly looking forward to having the house to himself after staring at his own penmanship for the better part of the day…

“Really, Sidney? Is it now _too much_ for me to ask for an hour of my brother’s time?”

Oh _god._ Tom was using _that _tone? It was an exact replica of the voice his mother used to impart deep, _deep_ guilt.

This time Sidney did want his eye-roll to be markedly noticed and observed by all parties in the room as he sighed heavily and carelessly tossed the paper away.


	4. Chapter 3 - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so accommodating around my move - I had previously had 3.2 typed up, so I'm happy I'm able to get it out to you sooner! (Ch 4 is slow going, since Sidney isn't in a lot of the episode and I am working around a plot-point that is a little... out there [if any of you have guessed it so far I will be VERY impressed] - so please bear with me while I start my new job and also try to make a chapter appear from thin-ish air!)  
Now... there might be a smutty add-on to the end of this chapter - I'm just not sure whether I make it a 3.3 or a short smut drabble and attach it as a series...  
Let me know what you would like at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hunter-gatherer-stuff <3 
> 
> Enjoy!

Tom was drunk - so drunk Sidney was prepared to sit at his bedside to ensure he survived the night. Apparently, his brother’s designs on the doctor for his small town had not gone according to plan.

Sidney thought back on the afternoon and tried to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong.

Walking to the demonstration it would have only been proper to walk in three pairs, all ladies assisted by the men, Tom in arms with Mary, Arthur and Diana bringing up the rear, with Sidney and Charlotte floating singularly between the two sets. But Sidney could not bring himself to such a blatant display of familiarity, to such an approximation of closeness with the woman he had endeavoured to drink away not one day prior.

His stomach roiled at the harsh reminder, and the harsher treatment he had put the organ through. Apparently, he was not as recovered as he had believed himself. Sidney wondered, not for the first time, if throwing himself off this cliff face would solve all his problems well and true?

They arrived at the massive estate with all parties intact, much to Sidney’s surprise and disappointment. As his physical manifestation turned on him, as easily as a beaten dog snaps at a recurring offender - so did his mind turn against everyone in the room, believing this to be some sort of farce meant to send Sidney straight to hell.

_No_, he corrected himself, _for here be hell laid out before me_.

Not only clanging machinery beneath sheets stained with odorous dirt and grease, but steam rising from braziers filled with… viscera? And to top it all off, a short, oily man slopping putrid ‘cure-alls’ to the endearingly gullible sops of siblings he belonged to.

_Ha! You don’t belong…_ that desperate voice whispered for the first time in many years, the one he thought he had long silenced…

Tamping out the memories of his parents’ shame he diverted his attentions to Lady D’s chastising of her nephew and the designs on his ward for Edward. Sidney was deeply satisfied Georgiana had teased the woman and made her swallow her words like crow pie. He would have to be more careful of the interactions his charge had with this family.

Thinking of Georgiana made Sidney turn to the other young woman in the room, Miss Heywood. He wondered on her opinion of the gathering, whether she had seen such varied company before, if she subscribed to scientific notions, or allowed religion to take credit for the times of discovery they were living in.

Sidney watched Tom and Charlotte murmur amongst themselves, already partners in business as they discussed the opportunities to be taken advantage of with the addition of Doctor Fuchs to the town.

Not for the first time Sidney wondered what Tom saw in the young woman; was he just as interested in her thoughts as Sidney seemed to be? Driven by a passion to know every idea, every remark that filtered behind her eyes and expressive face? Did Tom look at Charlotte and see the person, the laughter, the _woman_ \- or did he hear the clinking of coins as her notions turned fortunate, concepts translating into actionable advancement for his project - the crown jewel of Tom’s life - built atop the backs of others doing all the work. Sidney wondered if the significance of Tom’s dream weighed as heavily on her shoulders as it did his.

Suddenly, the fragrance of boiling hoof began to swirl throughout the room, causing Sidney to drop all pretense and take his leave.

The rest of his day had been spent writing letters to his contacts throughout the elite, inviting friends and acquaintances to the town and catching up with the movement of the ton before he retired to the beach for his daily exercise.

When he returned he was regaled with the story multiple times from a thoroughly sloshed Tom - who drowned his sorrows of the poor business decision in a sordid fashion. Everyone from the group had an opinion on what had occurred at the demonstration, but Tom was convinced the universe was punishing him violently for no slight whatsoever.

Sidney made sympathetic noises until he realized he was a non-participant in Tom’s eyes. He swallowed the last of his glass and waited patiently for the inevitable plateau in Tom’s audacity; like many years at school, in the end Sidney was responsible for escorting his brother to bed - a separate room from the one he shared with Mary (Sidney ultimately resigned himself to the idea that poor Mary had established this room because of Tom’s indulgences, and hoped it was not a sign of the status of their nuptials).

When he finally extricated himself from situating Tom in a position he had learned would save his brother should the worst occur, Sidney glanced at the time - it was so close to the hour it had been when he had met Charlotte in the kitchens, he considered skipping sleep altogether just to meet her smiling face, see the fire light up her auburn locks, watch her wring her hands in quiet consternation.

He shook his head and turned in the direction of his room - and if he paused in front of her door, well, he was the only one who would know.

What a fool he was.

Sidney woke up late, most of the house had quit on assignments for the day - other than Tom, who was hoarsely dictating orders from his reclined position on the settee. Sidney avoided his attention by escaping out the kitchen - after flirting his way into a sausage roll and fried egg from the cook.

The town was exceptionally busy - it was a good week for Sanditon. The hotel was filled, rooms were let, businesses were bustling. The town was doing well, and Sidney felt invigorated by the progress of his family’s efforts.

Suddenly he heard the screams from the development down the street he was passing, a group of onlookers all turned in the same direction and he knew where to head to find the incident.

Immediately he noticed Charlotte, knelt over a pile of stones with Young Mr. Stringer - what was she doing here? Had she been hurt? But when he followed her eyeline, he realized the pile of rubble she knelt beside was none other that Stringer Senior, bloodied and battered like he had been run over by an elephant.

He took in the scene and saw what required immediate attention, Ol’ Stringer’s leg was exposed to the bone and had an odd angle - fractured for sure, and fatal if they did not move quickly.

“Let me help,” he begged, shedding his jacked and rolling it into a bundle for Charlotte to place beneath Stringer’s head as she asked him if he was alright.

“Don’t mean to cause a fuss miss, it’s all - it’s all right!” the man said through clenched teeth - as Sidney inspected the damage, he was astonished the man was conscious at all, let alone enough to try and console the lady assisting him.

“T-there’s a doctor in town,” Sidney reached out and caught Young Stringer’s attention - god, Tom had mentioned the young man’s name to him - what was it? John? Jim? “We should fetch him.” He tried to impart as much urgency into his tone to the foreman, James! James was his name - and he needed James to know the seriousness of the situation - only a doctor could mitigate the mess of a limb in front of him.

“I’m not about to leave my father!” James spit back - Sidney did not take any offence, and his eyes quickly sought out the closest of the men to Young Stringer’s side. He volunteered immediately and turned to run off before Charlotte called out to him;

“Try the hotel!”

_Smart Charlotte!_

“We need to stop the bleeding.” Charlotte stood and began to pull up the edge of her dress, struggling with the doubled-hem and groaning with effort. As Young Stringer consoled his father, Sidney reached out and touched her elbow, spinning Charlotte towards him and taking her skirt in hand, tearing a strip from it and handing it back to her immediately.

_Beautiful Charlotte!_

There was no time to reminisce over the flash of her knee, the curve of her calf or the gasp when the fabric ripped a little higher than she had anticipated. It was burned into his memory though, where it would remain until he could examine it more closely - preferably when there was no longer blood coating his hands or screams of agony ringing in his ears.

She tied the linen tightly above the wound, making Stringer Senior cry out - Sidney wondered how she knew to cut off the bleeding early, it would be the difference between life and death if Doctor Fuchs had already left town.

_Strong Charlotte!_

Sidney immediately suggested they go to the closest point possible - Trafalgar House. While he and James got his father through the door, he could hear Charlotte following behind, issuing orders to everyone around her, no matter their status or rank - as if she were a general herself.

Tom and Mary quickly attended the commotion, Mary gasping and crying for the nurses to remove the children to their rooms, safely away from the unfolding tragedy. Fuchs arrived and a small measure of tension left the home.

Sidney stood back as the doctor knelt to inspect the injured party, rolling up his sleeves and seeing Charlotte do the same as she removed her bonnet and overcoat. Somewhere in his mind he wondered if another universe had a different Charlotte and a different Sidney doing exactly the same, he, ripping her skirts, she unbuttoning her top, both stripping themselves for entirely different reasons…

Then the table came scraping in, startling Sidney from his reverie, Mary calling Charlotte over to help her throw a clean sheet atop it as Sidney and Young Stringer knelt to carry the patient across the room to be examined more carefully.

Doctor Fuchs and James were exchanging increasingly heated words, and Sidney knew the conversation by heart - having had it himself when his own father lay dying.

“Mr. Stringer, a word?” beckoning James over he fought to find the words, “Perhaps you should wait outside,” Sidney begged him to leave the room, no matter how hard it was - he wished someone had said the same to him all those years ago.

“I can’t just leave him!” James protested, all false bravado after seeing his titan of a father fall.

“Nobody should see their father in that much pain. For his sake as much as yours.” He could see James struggling, so he added, “He’ll be taken care of, I promise you.”

The way James’ eyes flit between Miss Heywood and his father made Sidney barrel on; “I give you my word.” He clasped the young man’s shoulder and willed his words into belief as he tried to impart as much confidence as he could onto James. Young Stringer caved and strode to his father’s side.

“I’ll wait outside, father.”

The man left and Charlotte’s shoulders fell - Sidney hoped he had made the right choice, but the look of relief on her face before she sent him a small smile confirmed it.

“Now, this will not be pretty _fraulein_, you might want to turn your head away.” The doctor recommended.

“I’m not afraid of a little blood.” She retorted - Sidney’s appraisal of her was growing further and further in this trying time.

“Oh, very good - zen you can assist me. He must drink as much of it as he can,” He handed over a flask of something that Charlotte brought to Stringer’s lips, lifting his head gently to help him swallow whatever was contained.

Sidney had not realized he was staring at Charlotte until she urgently told him to take Stringer’s hand, which he did without hesitation.

“This will hurt a lot worse than a little _schmerzen_. First, we must set the leg!”

“Hold him still Mr. Parker,” Charlotte ordered, he scrambled to do her bidding, following her direction at every turn - she was a commanding presence in the middle of such commotion and panic.

“Keep a good pressure on the leg,” the doctor warned the footman at his side, “And so… sing _nachtigall_, sing! _Ein lied aus alten zeiten_… Now!”

Stringer’s scream pierced the walls.

The procedure was grisly - the patient went in and out of consciousness throughout, but the people attending him were solid as stone. Charlotte was an admirable assistant, following Fuchs’ every instruction, she had been even more level-headed than he - for when the metal pins began to screw into Stringer’s leg, and the scent of marrow briefly permeated the room, Sidney had needed to turn away to compose himself. In the end Charlotte had been the only one to remain calm when subsequently one of the servants fainted and began a small fire in the corner of the room.

When the doctor had finished, claiming the pins would hold and the leg would be saved as long as they did not let infection set in, the home rejoiced _quietly_. It was almost tea and the sitting room was regulated to be Old Stringer’s for the rest of the afternoon, until he could be safely moved back to his own apartments.

“Doctor Fuchs, you must stay for luncheon, it’s the least we can do for you saving our master stone-mason.” Tom, considerably recovered from this morning, interrupted the trio of surgeon’s behind the kitchen as they washed up in the rain basin - allowing the afternoon sun to soak into their backs and sooth away the tense ache hours of meticulous work preserving human life had caused.

Charlotte stumbled out of the way as Tom went to clap the doctor’s back, ignoring the woman, who Sidney considered to be the real hero. Rubbing a hand across her brow she backed out of the yard and back into the kitchens - Sidney attempted to follow but was caught up in Tom’s regaling of praise upon the professional.

Indeed, as soon as Tom had heard the commotion he had ordered a hock of pork, knowing that in the event of an emergency, that feeding the first responders was of the _utmost_ importance - sometimes considered the most vital role in a catastrophe.

_Enough_. Even Fuchs looked uncomfortable with the praise when Sidney was able to extricate himself from the conversation and move through the house - searching in vain for Charlotte before realizing she was no longer in Trafalgar House.

Without grabbing his jacket, hat, or even before rolling down his sleeves he exited the home, desperate to lay eyes on her, ensure her tough exterior was not cracking after such a tumultuous event. He came out to see Young Stringer clasping Charlotte’s hands in his own. Sidney approached warily and interrupted the moment with little remorse.

“Your father will be glad to see you now, Mr. Stringer.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you, sir!” the man rushed off to attend to his injured parent, leaving Sidney and Charlotte alone, again. Silence enveloped them - it seemed as if silence were their natural state when one of them were not trying to insult the other. Sidney only overcame the barrier on his tongue after they had both turned and began to depart.

“I must admit, Miss Heywood, you er… you have given a good account of yourself today.” She looked confused, “I should never have expected you to be so, er… capable.”

The confusion turned into scorn; “Because I’m a young woman?” he sensed her teasing tone and smiled to himself, “Or because up until now you’d dismissed me as frivolous.”

“Well, a little bit of both, I dare say.” He tried not to look at her mischievous eyes gazing up at him through full lashes, but failed when the building’s behind her held merely a fraction of interest to him compared to the beauty before him. “Forgive me.”

“How could I not?” She sighed with a wane smile in return. “Since I am as equally guilty of dismissing you.”

That did not surprise him - the rolling of her eyes, the tongue-in-cheek way she spoke around him; Sidney knew she thought him too superficial, but wondered what opinions of hers, over the past week, had changed?

“Oh? And what exactly have I done to deserve such condemnation?”

“Well… you always seem so, so reluctant to help Tom.”

Immediately he became defensive, “No, no - that’s hardly fair, I… I’ve done all I can for my brother.”

_And when had she begun to call him _Tom_?_

“Have you?” she pressed, “And if I may…?”

_I can hardly stop you_ he thought to himself.

“You’ve hardly proven yourself a sympathetic guardian to Miss Lambe.”

“Well a guardian should not need to be sympathetic. My task is to see that she is taught to behave like a lady.”

Charlotte scoffed. “That’s the _least_ of it! Georgiana is miles from home and you are the closest thing she has to …” The poor thing trailed off at his stony countenance. “Now you will tell me I’m speaking out of turn again and you do not care a fig what I have to say…” she finished off, with such resignation Sidney almost laughed if he were not so mystified by her.

“No. I invited your opinion, and, actually, for once, I think there is some, _small_, value in what you say.”

He delighted in the way her face lit up - he wished he were able to make her expression soften like that every time he spoke - he felt a comparable softening between his lungs.

“Coming from you I shall own that as the greatest compliment imaginable.”

He nodded and began to walk away before realizing he remembered what had been nagging at him since the last time they had had a conversation this long, or in private;

“Ah, Miss Heywood, erm… I’ve been meaning to say, I… Our, ‘meeting’ down at the coves, I hope you were not too embarrassed.”

“Why should _I_ be embarrassed, Sidney? I was fully clothed.”

Oh, how he wished that had not been the case…

“Yes… Very good, uhm, point…” he looked around awkwardly, not having intended her referencing his indecent exposure, and fully thrown off his mark for a moment - only the playful glint in her eye anchored him and allowed their parry to continue;

“_Well_, it was hardly fair of you to, er, ambush me like that.”

She threw her head back and laughed - the tan, unblemished column of her throat was debilitating to his composure.

“I can assure you, it was _not_ deliberate on my part.”

“Nor mine.” His smile was returned by her bright one - they were at an impasse, but finally one that felt surmountable.

“Well then…”

“Well then.”

They both looked away to laugh again, Charlotte turning into the wind, allowing her torn skirts to catch and brush against his side - before Sidney could stop himself he caught the linen between his fingers, tugging gently.

Her eyes turned and met his - were they not in the middle of Sanditon Square, Sidney was unsure whether or not he would back her up against a wall and kiss her senseless. She looked down at where his fingers still clutched to her skirts.

Could he beg a scrap from her? It needn’t be larger than a finger, he would fold it tightly, keep it against his breast on a chain, or tie it to his wrist…

Gods, he could bear no more, already having reached his quota in her presence, nodding and saying “good day” before calling off to the scene of the incident in search for his abandoned articles of clothing - and his pride.


	5. Chapter 3 - Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey all - thanks for waiting.  
You'll see I've taken the last bit of Chapter 3 Part 2 to put into this one. I was overly ambitious and posted too much in one chapter last time and although my readers might have liked it, it upset the flow I was trying to achieve with word-count and content.  
So you might want to reread CH3PT2 - although nothing has been added there, just removed, so if you remember it well then you aren't missing out on anything!
> 
> Here comes the p a s s i o n people!
> 
> (Also you can thank two people for this chapter being posted today:   
\- the-six-fingered-villan for writing me a letter that inspired me to jump back on this bandwagon; and  
\- Elizabeth Gaskell, who wrote North & South, which I've been watching the BBC adaptation of religiously)

Returning to Trafalgar House later, Sidney was regaled with the tale of Young Stringer losing his patience with Tom - Mary’s hands shook as she spoke, and Sidney could see her sanity fraying at the edges. He offered to take the children for a while, all but baby James, who was asleep.

His nieces and nephew had been out by the river for just over an hour when he heard; 

“Alicia, Jenny, Henry come on it’s time for supper!”

Picking up Henry he turned from the water to see where the girls had run off behind him, only to find Charlotte there, being all but dragged to where they had set up their little harbour.

“Charlotte come and play with us!” Alicia called.

“We’re having a boat launch with Uncle Sidney.” Jenny slurred, her two front teeth having just fallen out, and not yet replaced with permanent ones.

“You have to be on our side!”

“Ah, Miss Heywood - you have arrived at rather a critical juncture.” his eyes scanned her from head to toe, the way she was watching him as he balanced young Henry on his hip was curious to say the least.

“The British Navy are about to race the French! You can take charge of the French Fleet!” Jenny lisped.

“We shall call you Admiral Heywood!” Alicia giggled, and even Sidney had to smile at that. Remembering how she had handled herself at Stringer’s accident, the title of ‘Admiral’ was fitting.

“Well which boat is ours?”

“Red.” Jenny said, holding the craft aloft for Charlotte’s inspection.

“Uncle Sidney and Henry are the blue boat!”

“Well come on then, we can’t let those beastly boys win!”

“Well we _have_ to win - it’s a matter of historical record, isn’t it Henry?”

“Yes.” The shy boy answered, burying his face in Sidney’s collar.

“Can we not, Sidney, rewrite our history, if we find it disagreeable?” Charlotte asked, unheard by the children.

He smiled at that - he wondered what about their past she would change. The cove? The ball?

“Right - are we ready? On the count of three…”

The blue boat instantly toppled sideways and capsized - Alicia and Jenny cheered loudly and hugged Charlotte, pressing girlish kisses, meant to imitate the French style, to her cheeks as they celebrated. Henry cried out at being left out of the celebration and reached out his arms to Charlotte, who stood close to take him from Sidney’s arms. When the boy pressed kisses to her face as well, and she pecked his face in return until the child was squealing, red-faced and scrambling from her grip, she placed him down.

“Now you Uncle Sidney!” Jenny laughed, “You have to kiss Admiral Heywood too!” Sidney’s eyes jumped up to Charlotte’s, where her surprise at being the centre of attention and affection made her face flush.

“Yes! You must! Otherwise you are a sore loser!” Alicia grabbed Sidney’s elbow and dragged him closer to Charlotte, all three children chanting ‘kiss! kiss! kiss!’

Sidney looked at Charlotte and waited for her small nod of permission before he leaned in and pressed his lips to her rosy cheek - his hand came up and cupped the side of her neck, feeling her pulse hammering beneath his palm. The evidence of her excitement emboldened him and as he moved towards her other cheek, he paused mid-way, stroking his nose along hers, their lips just millimetres from brushing, before he finished his journey, pressing his lips to her other cheek and dropping his hand from her throat.

Charlotte breathed out unevenly, and pulled back to hush the giggling girls, before her eyes were drawn across the river, where the red boat bobbed and swayed as it made its maiden voyage down the waterway. He saw her blush fade and a calculating look come across her face;

“What is it?”

“Something’s just occurred to me. What, _other _than sea air, brings people to the coast?”

“Ships?”

“_Exactly_.”

As they walked back to the house, Charlotte carrying Henry effortlessly as he dosed limply in her arms, Sidney wondered what a child of hers would look like, not so fair haired as Henry, no, a child of hers would be all dark curls and wide brown eyes, with full lips and rounded cheeks. Sidney found he had to actively think of anything else, to shake himself out of a daydream of Charlotte being round with child, _his_ child…

They immediately went to find his brother once they had returned the children to the nursemaid. They found him pensively staring into the fire in his study.

“What is it?” he asked when they entered, flustered and excited. (Tom briefly wondered if Sidney had asked for Charlotte’s hand the way they both shared a gaze he had never seen on his brother’s face before…)

“Miss Heywood has an idea. And not a bad one, as it happens.”

“Does she?” Tom stood, “Have you Charlotte?”

“I’ve been thinking, about how we want to attract more visitors - and I realized what Sanditon needs is an event - something exciting to draw people here. And once they arrive of course they will fall in love with the place, just as I have.” Tom watched as Charlotte and Sidney shared another look - it was a connection Tom could not help but notice. “Anyway, we were playing with the children and their toy boats down by the river, and suddenly it occurred to me…”

*

“Mary I’ve had the most glorious idea! A regatta, to be held here in Sanditon.” Tom burst into the sitting room, interrupting Mary’s letter writing.

“A regatta?” she echoed, knowing to turn her full attention to her husband when he was in this type of mood.

“Can you not just picture it my dear? The river alive with a flotilla of boats, all shapes and sizes - the banks _teeming_ with spectators; the ladies attired in their finest white dresses, the gentlemen in straw hats! Can you not see it, Mary? Is it not a brilliant notion?!”

“Positively inspired my dear.” She answered.

“It must be said that Miss Heywood deserves some credit.” Sidney interrupted, having waited long enough for Tom to acknowledge the real brilliance in the room.

“Oh, I merely provided the kernel of the idea,” she tried to downplay. “It is Mr. Tom who has brought it to life!” Sidney smiled widely at that, how humble of her.

“No, no, Sidney’s right. It was _you_… that prompted _me_ to have the idea. You are fast becoming quite invaluable, Charlotte. Whatever would we do without you!”

*

They went through to the study and began planning immediately - Sidney noticed Charlotte’s comfort around him, the ease of her body - he found his hands reaching out more and more, touching her arm, when he passed around her, her waist when he held open a diorama she was pointing to.

He knew she felt it too, when her eyes would flick up to his after their hands brushed, that she watched him when Tom was distracted - held his gaze for too long when he caught her. At one point she missed Tom directing her to copy something down when her eyes were fixed to Sidney chewing his bottom lip - her own between her teeth as well.

After a few hours of planning, Mary requested Charlotte’s help with bathing the children, and demanded Sidney and Tom stop staring at their plans and relax their eyes lest they both go blind.

They retired to the couch in the study, pouring themselves well-earned glasses of sherry. Sidney felt comfortable broaching the subject of his departure again;

“At least this time I leave knowing you’re in good heart. A new physician, a regatta to plan. All is well with Tom Parker.”

“So it would seem,” his brother replied, once again looking into the fire before standing and turning to Sidney, “Well, I say um, I just wonder if… while you’re in London you could stop by the bank for me? See if they might consider extending - ”

Sidney sighed with exasperation, turning on his brother; “For gods sake Tom, it’s not as if I don’t have my own …”

His eye caught on Charlotte in the adjoining room. Seeing her braiding his niece’s hair, Sidney could not deny the lurch in his chest - what would a woman like Charlotte look like with her own children? She clearly loved Tom and Mary’s children - could her smile become any brighter? Could her eyes project any more adoration? Sidney wondered if he dared to find out.

Distantly he realized not helping Tom with this favour, meant Charlotte's novel idea might too not come to pass if he did not try with the bankers on his brother’s behalf. With a smile, he made up his mind.

“How much do you have in mind?”

“Two thousand ought to do it, three at the most.” Sidney’s shock must have registered on his face, Tom rushed to cover himself; “It’s just that with Fuchs, and the regatta… I need to step things up a bit if we’re going to finish in time for the influx of visitors.”

Sidney scraped a hand over his face before eventually sighing, “Very well. You’ll have an answer upon my return.” Tom raised a toast to him but Sidney did not feel like cheering to that.

“Mary!” Tom suddenly called, “Gather up the children, we are going to the beach!”

“Right this minute? But it’ll be dark soon.” Enervation was etched on his sister-in-law’s face, bone-deep, and not just with the exhausting day, but the exhausting partner she had chosen in life.

“Then we better hurry!”

*

Sidney walked in time beside Charlotte, keeping their eyes on the children running around them. He would not put it past Tom that he was tiring out the children enough that there would be no disturbances to him or Mary this night, and that they may use that uninterrupted time to rekindle their intimacy in the marital bed.

Rather than think of that, he turned to his companion;

“Miss Heywood, I wonder if I might presume to ask a favour?”

“Of me?” she looked shocked and Sidney had to smile.

“Extraordinary as it might sound, I do believe you are better positioned then almost anyone. Would you keep an eye on Georgiana for me? See that she’s kept out of mischief.”

“I thought you considered me to be a bad influence?”

“Well… is it conceivable that we’ve had each other wrong? Admiral Heywood?”

“It may well be.”

The Parker Party made its way back home without haste, Sidney enjoyed Charlotte’s company throughout, even offering her his arm when the sand turned more to stone, not allowing her to pull away when they once again were on steady footing.

“Mr. Parker, can I ask if you intentionally lost the boat-race?”

“Hmm. If I did, it was under the guise of inspiring my girls to greatness. Women need understand their own strength and contribution to society.”

Charlotte hid a smile as she ducked her head, Sidney gently touched the handle of his cane to her chin, tilting her face up towards him - he had only done so to see her countenance, but the way she bit her lip as he stroked the cold metal down her pulse, she was looking up at him, he was tempted to lean down and press his mouth to hers.

“What beautiful sentiment, Sidney.” Tom said over his shoulder as he and Mary ascended the steps along the embankment wall. Sidney nor Charlotte had realized they had caught up to their companions. Quickly he removed his cane from her throat and gave a quick side-step, arms still entwined but a respectable distance between them before they too took the stairs to the road-way leading home. “Mary and I have always stridden to offer every advantage to our daughters that we will provide to our sons. The world is a-changing!”

“I daresay your own children will benefit from the same visionary worldview, Sidney.” Mary said, a fond smile on her face before her eyes flicked to Charlotte and back to him. Charlotte tripped over her feet at the insinuation and Sidney slowed his pace, encouraging the distance between the two pairs.

“Ap-”

“I’m-”

They both started when the Parkers and their children had rounded a corner and were reasonably certain they were out of the couple’s earshot. With an awkward laugh Charlotte nodded for him to continue.

“Apologies, I believe Mary has machinations in play.”

“I was just about to say, I hope you do not think Lady Denham’s assumptions about my being in Sanditon, taken in by the Parkers, was true. I am in no need of a husband, and neither am I in want of one.”

“Nor am I, Miss Heywood.” When Charlotte snorted a laugh, Sidney rolled his eyes and explained; “In need or want of a _wife_.”

“Thank you for the clarification Mr. Parker.” Charlotte teased, her hand briefly squeezing his arm. “I see the love you hold for your family. It is inspiring.” Sidney nodded at the compliment. “When you do deign to choose a partner, they will be very lucky indeed.”

“And when someone can get past your presumptuous nature,” Charlotte scoffed but Sidney bore on, “and match your undeniable wit and charm - all the more blessed they would be.” Her cheeks were rosy, mouth parted in shock, eyes wide and imploring as her hand trembled upon his arm.

“T-thank you, Sidney.”

The sky was dark and the lanterns were just being lit when they finally sauntered home at their leisurely pace. Mary and Tom had already bundled all the children upstairs and the only person on the ground floor was the servant who took their outerwear before disappearing too.

“Allow me to escort you to your room.” It was a command, not a request, and Charlotte silently acquiesced.

The traipse up to her room was just as unhurried as their walk back to Trafalgar House, Sidney suspected Charlotte meant to draw out the trek, thinking he would leave her at her doorway and bid her goodnight.

He wondered if she knew his true intent, would she hesitate still? Or rush the rest of the way?

Sidney stopped in front of her closed bedroom door, leaning in so close he was able to feel Charlotte’s breath come quickly as he gently backed her into the frame. He took the hand that been on his arm and wrapped it around the doorknob, he was not sure whose fingers were trembling, hers or his.

“All you have to do is turn, it’s up to you.”

Before he could let her know it was alright, it was fine if they did nothing, if they drew this game out a little longer - he was already inside her dark apartment and pressed back against the door.

“Charlotte -” a messy kiss cut him off, one he greedily reciprocated - her mouth tasted like licorice and brandy, children’s candies and too-adult drinks for her.

“Mr. Sidney -” she murmured, her teeth catching his bottom lip as he followed the heat of her mouth with his own, “This is the _one moment_ I do not need to hear any insults, platitudes, promises or assurances. I am here to enjoy you, and you are here to do the same.”

Then her mouth was back on his, hands already tearing against his shirts, tugging on his cravat to get him where she needed him to be. Sidney’s hands worked on her in tandem - shedding her overdress and pulling pins from her hair, letting it flow across his still-bruised knuckles.

When her throat was free of any barrier, Sidney did not deny himself access to the pulse-point - knowing the skin awarded to him tonight would be her responsibility to keep covered in the morning.

The soft scrape of her fingernails across his scalp was sweet religion to his blaspheming body. The tug of his hair in her fists brought him back to the world, to meet her eyes, to focus on what she was saying across the haze of lust.

“Mr. Sidney - I-I hope you don’t believe me to do this often - indeed, you are the unfortunate first to me, I apologize -”

Charlotte brought his hand up to her mouth, his dark eyes would have followed her even if he were blind, when her teeth knicked out and caught his wrist, Sidney groaned, surging forward, trying to taste her pulse as she did his. His lips grazed her jaw, her chocolate hair fanned across his brow before her mouth enveloped his thumb, just as his tugged at the lobe of her ear.

A creak from down the hall gave Charlotte pause as Sidney pressed on’ “Charlotte,” he breathed, “Gods, please, I…”

She shushed him, her fingers pressing against his lips - until he opened his mouth and sucked her digits behind his teeth, grazing them gently across her flesh. She gasped, writhing against him as her whimpers went ignored, catalogued for future, but otherwise ignored.

Suddenly a sound much closer made them jump apart, startled like cats at the sound of the cook. Breathing heavily they stayed still as statues, waiting to see if any further indications of approach would arise - when nothing surfaced, Sidney relaxed, but realized how foolish his actions were; ravishing a young-woman under the protection of his brother’s roof would bring shame not only on Charlotte herself, but his family as well.

Comprehension of the same fact dawned on the lady in question; a pretty blush staining her cheeks as she laid a hand on her abdomen, trying to calm her nerves. Neither had the words…

“I’ll bid you good night.” Sidney finally spoke, his voice sounded as if it were a beast speaking and not a man - indeed he felt the epitome of a beast. Charlotte blinked back at him, disbelief and desire warring on her face, as he was sure it was blatantly battling on his.

Three steps to the left and he would be out the door, that is all it will take, to salvage what he could of his dignity and her honour.

He took three steps, though not in the direction he intended. Charlotte’s face was between his hands as he moulded his lips to hers once more, the mingling of their warm breath was the only sound to disturb them now. There was still passion, but it was softer, less rushed, Sidney took his time sampling the full lips that drove him to distraction every minute of every day since he had first laid eyes on her.

Charlotte’s fingers dug into his jacket once more, and the needlepoint of her nails was enough of a sharpness to aid Sidney’s brain from its lust-soaked stupor. He must leave, he had to return to London early in the morning, the night was not long enough to spend completing everything he wished to do to Miss Charlotte Heywood.

“I’ll bid you good night.” He murmured against her lips, pressing one last kiss against the corner of her mouth. Without looking back, he dropped his hands from her face and hair, turning to the door and exiting hastily.

On the way back to his room, Sidney could not help but wonder when he had taken leave of his senses.


	6. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did Sidney succeed in getting Tom's loans? Who and where are the Parker kids' parents and why does Sidney seem the odd one out? How did Georgiana come to be Sidney's ward, and will their relationship begin to heal? And for the finale, what really went down between Georgiana and Mr. M that Sidney had to put a stop to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, thanks very much for those of you being patient with my writing!  
To everyone else; I know it's tough to wait for stories you love, but writers on here are doing it for free, and during their spare time, so can you give us a break? Thanks!  
I'm so glad you all love what I'm putting out there, and I read every one of your comments, so thank you for taking the time to read/comment/kudos, it makes writing this story so much more fun <3 
> 
> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Lynsunrise who I took the underlined portion in this chapter straight from one of their comments. Thank you Lynsunrise and I can't wait to see what you think of this chapter!
> 
> Also I hope you ALL love what I'm bringing to you today, lots of head-canon backstory! I can't wait to hear what you all think.  
Did Sidney succeed in getting Tom's loans? Who and where are the Parker kids' parents and why does Sidney seem the odd one out? How did Georgiana come to be Sidney's ward, and will their relationship begin to heal? And for the finale, what really went down between Georgiana and Mr. M that Sidney had to put a stop to?

“How long will you be absent?” Georgiana was still in her night clothes, he had woken her early to ensure he kept his departure time and arrived in London early enough to make his appointment. The sun had not risen and few candles were lit - he considered how improper this whole meeting would be had he _not_ been Georgiana’s guardian and had to shake his head at the loopholes the customs and propriety of their ‘modern’ age allowed.

“At least a week, I have some business matters I must attend.” Sidney replied, twisting his hat nervously in his hands. He had not slept well, and after considering what had transpired with Charlotte the evening prior, he was not surprised.

No, not the kiss, although that had wrecked its fair share of havoc on his psyche… It had been her words after Stringer’s accident, that he, Sidney Parker, was the closest thing to family that Georgiana had. Being well versed in the nature of abnormal families, he had felt inspired to begin to repair upon the relationship between he and his late best-friend’s child - having written her a letter, which now sat heavy as a guillotine’s blade in his pocket.

Nothing more was offered or said between them, it did not feel the time to broach such a subject - the story could wait for another day. He turned to leave.

“I am sorry.” Her voice stopped him just before he reached the exit, so sincere he had to do a double-take to ensure he had heard her properly. “My behaviour has been so wanting. You were right to remove me from London. I will strive to do better.”

The opportunity presented was too generous to pass up.

“As will I.” Sidney fingered the letter in his pocket, eying Crocket in the corner before approaching his ward.

“Georgiana, I know all too well the pressure of childhood turning into adulthood, the betrayal of disappearing family and ever-constant demands of society. Please, I know we have had our differences, but I pray we may find common ground moving forward. Your father -” his voice broke, he blamed it on the early hour of the morning, “Your father was my greatest friend and closest ally - the honour he would have felt at raising you is now mine, and I pray to be worthy of it.”

He handed her the missive, sealed with red wax and thick with emotion on its pages.

“Take care - I will be home soon.” 

He cupped her cheek - the feeling of her skin in his hand entirely dissimilar from the texture of Charlotte’s own - and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before turning and leaving abruptly. He could not be there when Georgiana read the document, knowing full well his heart laid bear was a sad and rotten thing, and the altered opinion Georgiana viewed him in could not be faced on this day.

He chewed over his decision to enlighten Georgiana on his ride to town, half a mind to turn around and rip the paper from her hands before she laid eyes on a single word, and half relieved she would know all.

*

> _Georgiana, _
> 
> _I know you feel I have let you down, time and time again. These are words that should have been spoken the moment I laid eyes on you, not months down the line after I have given you sufficient time to find adverse qualities in my character, yet hopefully not enough time to have rendered your forgiveness of me out of the question._
> 
> _I met Jakob when I joined the trades-race, we enlisted on a boat together, me, trying to make my mark on the world, earn a living a certain woman would find respectable enough, and Jakob who’s love for the water commenced in his travels from the Netherlands to the Kingdom. He sold me ‘sea-legs’ as if they were the latest fashion. _
> 
> _Within a few years, we were able to buy a boat of our own and pay a crew of eight. We had memorized the routes, the stars, the way to and from paradise. Our one ship easily became a fleet when we were the luckier and braver of the fools to travel West. _
> 
> _We made our fortune; I was only torn away from Antigua with the promise that the owner of my heart would marry me now I was no longer a moderately-settled second-son. When I arrived in London she was ecstatic to see me - I asked her to marry me, again, to travel the world with me and never be parted from my side. She laughed, as if the thought had never occurred to her. My fortune was not enough to tempt her, and when another came along with fuller coffers, she became engaged, and I went mad. _
> 
> _The sea, the West and your father were my only consolation. _
> 
> _When Jakob decided to stay in the West Indies for good, my heart broke, moreso than it had when the woman of my dreams shattered it not a year prior. I was losing my business-partner, my friend, my anchor. He is the person who held me down, and I realized before I ever met him, I was unmoored and adrift, I was so afraid of what would happen without him, I nearly chose to remain so I would never find out. If only I had, you and I may have been as thick as thieves, and I would have met your mother, the woman who my friend cherished more than me, I’m positive she must have been extraordinary, to have tamed Jakob and given birth to a wild-cat such as yourself, I wish I had come to know her. _
> 
> _But someone had to manage the company from the East, and my entire family was clamouring for my return. My father had taken ill after his wife had passed while I was abroad. Ah, I see I have outed myself too early in the retelling of it. No, my father’s wife was not my mother. But that is a conversation for another time. _
> 
> _In just under fourteen months so too did my father pass - it was slow and torturous, nothing I would wish on my worst enemy. But suddenly, I was not only a man of industry, but a man of means. I put everything into the company your father and I created, to great success. You have inherited his wealth, and one day, I would hope to engage you in the business end of the corporation - although I understand your aversion to boats after your harrowing journey, I still have never seen a sicker person on the ocean than you, G._
> 
> _Nearly a decade later when he bade me to come to Antigua I was ecstatic - it had been so long, I had so much to tell him, I wanted to hear everything of the fifteen years we had been apart, every detail of every day. My knees still click with the residual impact of climbing to the crows-nest thrice daily just to scan the horizon for that beautiful island. _
> 
> _I write this knowing full-well you understand my anguish when I say, no one else can comprehend the devastation I suffered when he was not there to greet me. _
> 
> _I c- _(there was a smudge on the page that made this line illegible)
> 
> _I _c_annot write of it any longer. _
> 
> _Your father made me promise to not let you out of my sight, least of all _marry_ until you had come of age - I know you resent the fact, but your father’s last wishes are of paramount importance to me. I have enclosed his letter to me, it is the last piece of him I have, and I give it to you, because as I write this, I now know that _you _are the last gift Jakob gave to the world, and one that I cherish. _
> 
> _Let us rejoin as lovers of your father, if not friends ourselves, when we see one another next. _
> 
> _Stay well, stay safe. _
> 
> _Yours, _
> 
> _Sidney._

*

Sidney had been laughed out of five banks for begging on behalf of Tom’s cause - many told him the only reason they took his card and meeting in the first place was _because_ Tom’s name did not precede the surname ‘Parker’.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and dug the tip of his cane into the top of his shoe. He knew his valet would chastise him later, but the dull pain centered his focus and reigned in the second-hand shame he suffered on behalf of his kin.

_Half-kin_, the small voice in Sidney’s head whispered, dredging up memories better left untouched, _You have done far more for people who shared far less than blood with you. _

Too late to shake them off, Sidney took off at a vigorous pace, unable to expend his energy in the water as he had grown so accustomed, he instead took busy backroads and seedy sidewalks, endeavouring to drown out the memory creeping up behind his eyes.

“I am relying on you.” Tom’s words echoed deep in Sidney’s soul, as if his elder brother had been in the room with him when his father had spoken those last words to Sidney - they were the trigger of his worst thoughts and deeds, and Tom now apparently knew this weaponized information - so much like his mother, her sharp tongue continued to lash him as if it were a whip from hell itself.

_“I am relying on you, to keep this family afloat - Sidney, you do not have the madness that floats the rivers of your siblings’ veins, for which I am profoundly grateful.”_

_“Father,” Sidney had started but his father held up a hand, silencing him. They had been given the room, which was rare when it seemed as if the entire Parker clan had converged on their patriarch’s apartments in town during his convalescence. _

_“No - you must know you are not like the others.” Sidney knew of the general malaise his siblings suffered from, but other than that the second-son did not fully comprehend his father’s statement. _

_“Your mother -” his father swallowed and closed his eyes before starting again, “My wife, was cruel to you, always - I tried to make sure the other children never saw, no one but those involved knew - you are safe, you are _my son_.”_

_“I don’t understand, father.”_

_A bout of coughing overtook him, and Sidney tensed, unsure what to do, did he fetch the doctor? Pour his father tea? He felt helpless, useless. _

_When he had recovered his father pointed a shaky finger towards his desk in the corner where Sidney found his father’s will and business statements. _

_“You will see, I have budgeted Arthur well enough for a lifetime, let us hope he does not develop a taste for life outside his means, but if he does, you must make considerations for him. Diana will do well enough on her allowance until she is married - I look to you and her brothers to ensure a good match.” His father paused to catch his breath as Sidney followed along through the paperwork. “I am leaving the bulk of my estate to you and Thomas - you will see he receives the monetary value while you inherit my commercial holdings. You will know what to do with them Sid, Tom does not. He’s got too much of his mother in him, frivolous spending and schemes for the wrong kind of gain.” _

_Sidney was focused on following the numbers when his father reached out and grabbed his hand; “Tom _will_ burn through his inheritance, and his ventures will dry up. I need you to look out for Mary and the bairn she’s carrying, _no Parker will be dragged down by his father’s misdeeds_.” _

_Another bout of coughing and choking began to overtake his father and Sidney leapt up to grab the doctors when blood dripped down his father’s chin. The medical team rushed in and began working on his father and Sidney stood in the corner of the room, watching as the surgeons fruitlessly strove to save his father’s life. He passed that next morning. _

_In the cold light of dawn, amidst his sister Diana’s wails, Sidney found what his father had been trying to tell him. Looking over his father’s books he discovered a mysterious stipend being sent to a small estate in Wales that when he inquired had received a new maid the year Sidney was born that they were given an allowance to employ. _

_He was his father’s son. But not his mother’s. _

*

Sidney tried at four more banks that week before abandoning the futile effort. As much as Sidney wanted to wash his hands of Tom’s endeavours, his father’s words rang through the voice of his half-brother’s and plagued him for not trying harder - but Sidney needed these relationships, he was already pushing the boundaries of his professional contacts, and his businesses would suffer if these persuasive and imperative people began to roll their eyes at the mention of his name as they did Tom’s.

On his final day in town he joined Matthew and Lourd for a jaunt in the gambling house, eager to see if Lady Fate would reimburse him for the good deeds he had done his family the past several days. Sidney did not believe in such things, like the new concept being brought back from the East ‘_karma_’ - but one had to admit the idea of comeuppance and compensation being equally dolled out by the universe had it’s charm.

The added benefit was that his boys had a wager going, one they had learned in school from their friend Farris; whoever lost the most owed whoever made the most a favour - it was too good an opportunity to pass up for Sidney to be owed a favour by one of his influential friends.

The hall was rowdy and filled with gentlemen bragging their prowess and women profiting from the displays.

He circuited the room slowly, sipping the crystal of ruby port provided, a Portuguese export with the faintest hint of anise, reminding him of the taste of a certain lady by the sea. He allowed his mind to wander, considering what she might have been doing this week, if his brother had created another desultory idea to make poor Charlotte develop until he could take the approbation from her belaboured hands.

Sidney was brought out of his reverie watching Babington getting dominated in club, which he should have appreciated, but his mind was elsewhere, and he was not enjoying himself whatsoever. Matthew began bemoaning his awful playing and suggesting they find a game with “better odds” - Lourd and Matthew turned on Sidney, smiling like a pair of hyenas, apparently looking at their money-maker. Sidney sighed and downed the rest of his drink, handing the glass to Crowe as he shrugged off his jacket and rolled his shoulders.

Fine. Sidney could use the distraction.

Bloodied knuckles, what felt like cracked ribs and bruises blooming across his jaw and cheekbone later meant that technically, he had earned the most that night, and in a twist of fate, both Crowe and Babington now owed him a favour. It was a hard-won night.

Sidney dug his tongue into a split in his lip as he washed up for the evening, the water burning satisfyingly over his damaged hands… he realized his return to Sanditon would have to be delayed if he were to return to the sea-town without his appearance causing an uproar; although he would love to see Charlotte’s reaction to his current visage.

Something about the night had felt odd, and Sidney realized he had not seen the man he had expected to see lurking around the gambling den or the fights. The absence was suspicious, but he hoped the rouge had gone straight after the personal blow he had been dealt by not being able to marry Georgiana.

He pushed thoughts of Mr. Molyneux from his mind, satisfied to be free of the threat to his ward.

*

Sidney returned to Sanditon in a better mood than he had felt in months – in fact coming back almost felt like coming home. The intimate departure between him and the pervasive Miss Heywood, gave him reason to hope for an equally intimate welcome in return.

“Sidney!” Mary cried when she laid eyes on him – indeed whenever he returned to his sister’s house he were greeted as if returning from the war, she laid so much affection in her voice. Her embrace was just as violent and Sidney had to swallow a groan from the resulting sharp ache in his ribs. “Tom will be overjoyed to see you, he has been _most_ impatient for your return.”

Sidney said nothing, suddenly the disappointing news he had for his brother began to cloud his disposition. Mary noticed and he tried to shrug it off;

“Ah, he merely asked me to, ehm, help with the regatta, that’s all… Is he home?”

“I have no idea where he is.” Mary said airily, in a resigned sort of way. Again Sidney remained silent and Mary huffed, knowing this was her brother-in-law’s unique technique to probe for more information. “I don’t know where he is more hours of the day than I do, he’s running himself to death, I don’t know how much he sleeps, and at meals he’s pouring over correspondence rather than engaging with his family.” Mary hiccupped in a rare show of feeling overwhelmed and continued in a whisper “T-the children have asked when they will see their father again, as if the man sitting at the table were a facsimile. He hasn’t held James in _weeks_, Sidney… this cannot be normal!”

Sidney wished he could stand and embrace his sister, but all he could do was reach across the table and lay his fingers lightly atop of hers. Mary twisted her hand up and squeezed hard as she turned her head and looked out the window, pressing her palm across her mouth. She did not sob, but the soft shuddering of her shoulders betrayed her emotions just as much as the tears silently rolling down her cheeks.

“It’s the town Mary. He has never taken on a project of this size - it is taking its tole. I’m sorry it’s affecting you and the children. I don’t pretend to know what it’s like to support a family - but I know it should not be falling all upon your shoulders.”

Mary chuckled wetly and unclasped his hand to bring a napkin up to her face and dab her eyes dry.

“I suppose I’ve signed up for it now.” She smiled and Sidney had to smirk at that, it was a dry, wry humour he had not expected from his brother’s wife, but he appreciated it justly.

“I think the whole town has signed up for Tom’s mania in retrospect - I wonder if they are as exhausted with it as I am becoming.” Mary poured herself a cup and placed the pot on the table, turning the handle in Sidney’s direction before bringing the tea to her lips and taking a slow sip, staring vacantly across the room, “I wonder how many other’s he’s roped into his dream.”

“And… what of your house-guest?” Sidney endeavoured to change the topic of conversation.

“Charlotte?” Sidney nodded as he poured his own glass of grey, “Sometimes I think she works harder for Sanditon than even Tom does. She has gone to see Miss Lambe, they seem to have struck up quite a friendship.”

Sidney laughed to himself, as Mary looked at him in confusion “Then she is being as good as her word. You know, I’m minded to visit Georgiana before long, perhaps I will find Miss Heywood still with her.” He realized he still had a large smile on his face before hiding it behind his cup – too slow before his sister caught it.

“You know… she seems to like you.” Mary broke the silence that had stretched between them, a small spark in her eyes as she looked pointedly at him.

“Who?” Sidney knew exactly whom his sister implied but selfishly wanted to hear her say it.

“Charlotte. She compared you to anchovy paste just yesterday.”

“That doesn’t sound –”

“Likening you to something that is an _acquired taste_.”

Sidney shifted uncomfortably – what he would not give to sample Charlotte’s taste, and she his in return. He remembered the salt of the sea on his lips when Charlotte’s eyes had laid on him approaching her from the water, the way her tongue had swiped the corner of her mouth where a drop of water had fallen from his hair onto her face – not realizing how close they were standing.

Sidney raised his hand and swiped over his mouth, trying to remove the tingling feeling that burned there.

“I daresay she is an acquired taste as well. Generous with her half-baked opinions and incorrect assumptions.” He tried to hide the softness forming within him towards the girl with the sharpness of his words.

“If a woman speaks her mind, which she knows better than any other, and you are there to hear it – does that mean she is incorrect?” Mary teased, “And,” she cut him off before as he opened his mouth; “And if you agree with the opinion, but cannot deign to admit as much to yourself, you choose instead to shame the lips it came from, because you dare not chastise yourself?”

With a long-suffering sigh, Sidney tilted his head and pinned Mary with a glare.

“When I _allowed_ you to marry Tom, I did not think the priest mentioned ‘_the live flaying of your brother-in-law_’ as part of the marriage rights.”

Mary threw back her head and laughed, her hand waving in the air as Sidney joined in with a dry chuckle.

“Oh Sidney, if you think you _‘allow’_ a woman to do anything, you are most definitely the one who is being _allowed_ in that relationship.”

“I am starting to learn that.” Sidney said, thinking of his ward. “Thank you for the tea, Mary.” He stood to leave.

“Will you join us for dinner?”

“Thank you.” He affirmed, shrugging on his jacket.

“I do believe she will get the hang of you yet…” Sidney ignored Mary’s implication of who _she_ was.

“Or hang me otherwise?” he muttered, palming his hat and gripping his cane as he exited Trafalgar.

*

Sidney strode towards the governess’s house, the sun on his back warmed his overcoat comfortably but he made for the side-streets, hidden in shadow and less crowded for his path.

No one answered at the governess’ home, so Sidney entered, encountering a servant as he removed his hat and gloves - she showed him into the sitting room where the ladies were practicing their poetry reading. He waited for one of the sisters to finish the prose before opening the door, startling the women within.

“Mr. Parker, I had no idea you were back in Sanditon!” Mrs. Griffiths crowed, fussing over her twin charges as they curtseyed with flustered giggles in Sidney’s direction.

“Sorry to interrupt, I’ve come to see Georgiana.” Sidney cast his eyes around the room as if he would find his ward hiding in the corner, with her friend and the rejoinder to his desire standing at her side.

“Alas she is not here – she and Miss Heywood are attending your brother and Mrs. Parker’s picnic.”

Sidney felt his jaw tick in what he learned was a precursor to shielding himself from bad news… he prayed he was wrong…

“Er – you must be mistaken; I have just been at Mrs. Parker’s and I saw no sign of a picnic or Georgiana.”

“But… but she said…”

Dread clouded his mind as panic began to tighten his chest - this was too similar to the last event, too coincidental…

“She said _what_ Mrs. Griffiths?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops... did I say finale? I meant cliffhanger ;)  
Stay tuned for Chapter 4 - Part 2!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hope you like. 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr: https://hunter-gatherer-stuff.tumblr.com/


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